


Bulletproof Heart

by myownremorse



Category: Avengers, MCU, Marvel
Genre: Angst, F/M, Light Bondage, Marvel - Freeform, Smut, Sub!Natasha, TrickWidow, brief Ironwidow mention, i freaking love this ship, mcu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 23:36:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12875472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myownremorse/pseuds/myownremorse
Summary: What if Loki had the Nat pegged for the wrong Barton this whole time?Pizza, bullets, and love.A very Barton Fic.





	1. Chapter 1

Natasha Romanov was now working full time for the Avengers and for SHIELD. Working two full time jobs might seem impossible, but when you don't need sleep, it wasn't all that difficult. Plus, the Avengers only really ever needed her when the world was falling apart, which thankfully, wasn't all that often. So the majority of her work with the Avengers was training and paperwork, and keeping Tony in line, which she had done a pretty good job of, if she did say so herself. SHIELD really only took her for missions now, not wanting to overload her, but she'd still show up for work, not having much else to do beside hang out with Clint or help him beat up some thugs around his apartment, but that was mostly his job.

Most nights, she'd spend a few hours at his place then go back home, or maybe even spend the night. He pretty much always fell asleep on the couch anyways, so the bed was regularly open to her. Tonight was no exception. After a long day of training with Wanda, Natasha was taking the quickest and most well lit route to his house at around ten at night, her hands stuffed in her pockets as she went, ready to strike anyone if necessary. Without really noticing it, as she ran across the street to get to his apartment, her phone fell out of her back pocket, landing face down on the pavement as she continued to walk up to the door leading up to Clint’s apartment.

A small device on the concrete in the middle of a busy street was not easy to spot, especially when the pedestrians themselves were too busy with their own devices. The device was practically invisible to all but one man who found it thanks to chance.

The edge of his foot had caught the device, sending it sliding across the hard pavement and this earning his attention. His curiosity led him to pick it up and try to unlock it, only to find that it was not secured with a password. A crack decorated the screen of the phone, probably already there or just newly earned from its untimely fall.

Not thinking of much else, the man pocketed it and went on with his business. If the owner realises the device is missing, they would surely try to call it.

The next morning, Natasha woke up in Clint’s bed once more. Her arms stretched out, and she looked up at the ceiling. It was unusually bright for the time she usually woke up. She must've slept in. The redhead reached over and felt for her phone to see what time it was. When Clint moved into his apartment, he didn't buy any clocks. Natasha had told him multiple times to go buy one, and either he didn't see the importance or just kept forgetting. She assumed it was the latter. 

Realizing her phone was not on the stand like usual, Natasha grunted unhappily and got up out of bed, throwing all her things into her duffel bag as she continued to look for her phone. 

“Goddammit,” she mumbled twenty minutes later, unable to find it. Clint was still asleep on the couch, and there wasn't really any way to wake him up, so she instead grabbed Clint’s phone and called her own phone, waiting. But after a few rings, she didn't hear it. “...the hell?”

Meetings are usually serious, the setting and modules would not matter. Seated around the table, the discussion was put on hold when the sound of a phone ringing was heard. They all turned to the particular man at the end of the table, while he simply looked confused. Realising that the source of the ringing was from his pocket, he reached into his coat and pulled out the phone he had forgotten about since the night before.

He excused himself from the meeting quickly, picking up the call and answering. “Hello?”

Hearing someone on the end of the phone was certainly not what Natasha was expecting to hear. To her knowledge, the phone had not left the apartment. Her brow furrowed and she dropped her bag, crossing her arm over her chest. “Who the hell is this?”

The man on the other line had a clear voice with a hint of gruff, possibly from tobacco. Upon hearing her question, he was more curious and amused than offended.

“My name is Charles. I found this phone on the pavement last night, do you happen to know who owns this number? I’d like to return it to them,” he said.

“Natasha Romanov-” she cut in, eager to just get her phone back and off to her day. Natasha didn't exactly relish the idea of having to deal with people realizing who she was and either freaking out or wanting to go through her phone. Everyone on the team knew better than to look through her phone, or face the consequences. So she didn't exactly have a passcode. “Just.. where are you? Where did you find it?”

Resigning to give Clint his phone back later, Nat picked up her bag and walked back outside, trying to decide whether or not to take a cab or wait for ‘Charles.’

“I am currently occupied with work, is it possible for us to meet at lunch and I’ll return you the phone?” he asked, not one for overthinking simple situations. He just wanted to give the phone back to the lady and get on with his life again. “There is a pizza parlor round the corner of the street I found this phone on. I’ll see you there?”

Nat quickly looked around the street for any clock, not seeing one, she pulled away Clint's phone and checked the clock. 10:36. She could wait a few hours, or at least get there early and sit and wait. “What time is your lunch?”

Looking at the watch that he had on his wrist, he figured he could get out early and just get on with it.

“Give me about an hour,” he said, glancing back to the assistant that had been waiting on him to continue the meeting. He nodded to the younger one and spoke quickly on the phone. “Alright. I’ll see you there.”

“You never told me the pizza place you were talking about.” Waving a hand, Natasha caught the attention of a cab and got in, waiting for directions. She gave a brief look of apology to the driver who wanted to get going.

“It’s… what it is called,” he said, glancing back once more and signalling for them to continue on without him. “It’s down twelfth street, I think.”

“Twelfth Street, huh?” Nat raised an eyebrow and looked around. She was on twelfth street, so that must have meant she dropped her phone somewhere near the apartment or something. Or maybe someone took it without her knowing it. That wasn't likely, she thought. Nodding, she told the driver where to go and turned back to the phone. “See you in an hour.”

Hanging up the call as the conversation came to a close, he pocketed the phone and returned to the meeting. They would have made a big fuss out of it had it been someone else, but it wasn’t on the table at that moment. And so they had to shut their mouths about it and simply continue working their way through the interrupted meeting.

As the hour passed, the meeting had long ended and Charles had to rush out so he did not end up late for his next appointment. One that was not business-related, surprisingly.

It took Natasha about five minutes to get to the pizza place. She could have walked there faster. Goddamn New York traffic. But despite this, she paid the driver and got out, taking a booth seat in the restaurant. She knew she was going to be waiting for a while, but she didn't mind. Instead, she sat there sabotaging Clint's phone so that certain words would become shortcuts for not so nice words, and setting alarms for early in the morning. 

The time eventually passed, and Natasha sat there, looking out the window as she wasn't exactly sure who she was looking for. 

Stepping out of the car, he walked down to the pizza parlor and entered it, quite unsure of who it really was he was looking for. Pulling out the phone, he looked to a certain redhead and walked over to her to get her attention. “Hi, is this…?”

He has the phone in hand, unsure how else to ask this.

Her eyes scanned every person who walked in. It was just a part of her training. She was strategically seated at the booth where she could watch the whole parlor. Sometimes she did that without even thinking about it. As she watched the people walk in, she could tell who he was immediately. He was the only one who seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing and had his intentions in mind. Everyone else was just milling about. 

So as soon as Barney walked in, Natasha sat up a little straighter, waiting as he came towards her until he spoke. “Yes, that's mine.” The assassin stood and reached forward, pocketing Clint's phone before taking her own. “Thank you,” she nodded, looking up at him. 

And she certainly did look up. He was a good foot taller than her. It wasn't as if she was unused to the fact that she was short, she just didn't particularly like remembering that “small fact.”

Smiling as she took the phone from him, he nodded and studied her for a moment. “You should be more careful. I found this on the floor.”

Natasha quickly pocketed the phone in her other pocket and let out a sharp sigh, shaking her head. “I'm always careful.” 

She realized she hadn't eaten since last night when her stomach rather rudely reminded her, and she drew in a short breath, motioning to the booth she was sitting in. “I'm going to eat. You're welcome to join me if you have the time.”

Smiling as she spoke, he nodded and took a seat when she offered. “I am actually really hungry right now. The smell here is killing me.”

Looking over to the waitress, he waved to her and then back to the stranger in front of him. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long. The traffic is terrible.”

“I always get to places early. Even if there wasn't traffic, I would have been waiting. Plus, it gave me time to screw with my partner’s phone, so.. hats off,” she nodded sitting down in front of the man. When the waitress came over and gave them the two menus, Natasha looked over it, deciding she'd get a small pizza for herself. She had been here plenty of times with Clint before, so she knew what she wanted. Usually they'd take out, but sometimes they stayed. Generally, she preferred not to eat in public places. It wasn't as if she was Tony Stark, but she still didn't like any attention that she did get. It went against everything she was taught for years. Anonymity is a friend. And any cover she had tried to keep when coming to SHIELD was mostly lost in America now. 

Upon placing his order and even getting some sides of wings and drinks, he turned his attention back to the lady. She was a curious one, this lady. The way she carried herself suggested military but her seemingly small body would hint other kinds of training. “I’m sorry but I never got your name,” he said.

“Yea, you did,” she said flatly, without really looking up from the menu. Turning to the waitress, she ordered her small chicken barbecue pizza before turning back to the redheaded man. “It was the first thing you asked me when we were on the phone. Either you're trying to make polite conversation or you're just generally forgetful or unobservant.” 

“Right,” he said, remembering it as she mentions. “I’m sorry. I really am forgetful. Natasha Romanov, was it? It’s just that today has been hectic to be honest. Things keep slipping off my mind these days. I hope you don’t feel offended or anything.”

Well, that certainly was not awkward, he thought. She could have answered his question politely but given the way her words were placed, he knew a little more about her than she would care to let on.

She shook her head once and set her napkin in her lap. It was a force of habit, something she had ingrained into her from a young age, all those damn etiquette rules. A large percent of things she did were habitual, and only after spending some time with her did people begin to notice it. Natasha was very much a creature of habit. But after all, it had kept her alive this long. Why change things?

Her harsh demeanor was in no way aimed specifically at him. It just seemed obvious to her. She had already given him her name. She was just stating the facts. Shrugging once, she looked back up at him. “You don't have to apologize. You didn't offend me. The world would be a sadly sensitive place if people went around taking offense at every name forgotten.” 

“That would be the cold harsh truth,” he agreed. “So… Are you a student, Miss Romanov?”

He was simply watching her the entire time, studying how she had etiquette pretty much nobody else alive has around here. Not even the best of millionaires did what she did. It only made him more curious about her.

“A student?” Natasha almost scoffed, looking up at him. She hated sounding privileged or unnecessarily cocky, so she tried to steer away from the ‘you don't know who I am?’ question that always seemed to exude ignorance. Instead she just watched him, taking a second to look over him. The longer, messy hair and the suit was definitely an odd combination. And the fact that he had been studying her wasn't a fact that had been lost on Natasha. “No, I'm not a student. Are you?”

“No. I’m not. I’m a businessman,” he said with a small smile. Hard to sell with the way he looked, but still nothing too far out from the truth. “I manage some accounts. What about you?”

It was definitely disconcerting that he didn't know who she was. Had he stolen her phone and used that as an excuse to get to her, to set up this meeting? Was he a hit man or a spy? Her eyes narrowed and she silently took a sip of her water. 

“I do a lot of paperwork myself. Mostly records keeping.”

It wasn't a lie. Natasha did oodles of paperwork a week, and she hated it. 

“Interesting,” he said and nodded. “Well I’m not from around here. Just dropped by to meet up with some clients, look for business opportunities for a few days and then I’m off to next state.”

The food arrived not long after, earning his attention as the smell caused him to salivate. “Oh I am so hungry.”

“You're not from New York?” It was obvious from the way that he spoke. He sounded way more midwestern than anything else. Natasha had gotten better at American accents over the years, and Clint had particularly helped her with the mid west accent. It was a bit of nothing mixed with more nothing from what she could tell. It was almost like if you took every “special” accent out of the English language, (northern, southern, western, Canadian) it was what you got. Just sort of pure. “How long are you going to be here?”

When the pizza came, she smiled a little, thinking about Clint. She should probably bring him some in apology for taking his phone. “What's the next state?”

“A week, maybe more or maybe less. It depends,” he shrugged slightly and picked up a slice of pizza to enjoy. “I’m still thinking. Do you have any suggestions?”

Taking a bite of the pizza, he let out a hum that sounded almost like a moan of pleasure. “Please excuse me, I haven’t had pizza in a long time. Like… a week.”

She had opened her mouth to answer him but stopped mid word as soon as he moaned. That was definitely not what she was expecting. Then when he said a long time, she assumed it had been months, but only a week? Natasha blinked once and took a bite of her own, laughing softly to herself once without even really thinking about it. 

“You remind me of my friend.” 

“That’s new. People often only tell me I remind them of their distant cousin who’s gone mad,” he said, then adding as an afterthought, “or already dead.”

He gave her a smile and shook his head. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. You were saying?”

Shaking her head, Natasha took another small bite of her pizza, thinking for a minute. “Arizona is nice. And it won't be unbearably hot right now. I mean, I don't know exactly what you do for a living, but if you'd get to chose, that's a good place.”

Her eyes traveled over him once more. The way he sat and the way his gaze was usually fixed directly ahead was textbook American military. That was one thing she always thought was stupid about their military training. Why would you tell your cadets to look straight ahead? Attacks come from all sides. It seemed rather short sighted to her, but she never had the chance to file a complaint against the whole military of America. 

Seeing that this wasn't going to answer any of her questions, she simply decided to just breach the topic before he did. It was quite obvious that he had multiple questions on his mind, and she wanted the upper hand. “How long did you serve?”

“Excuse me? Is it that obvious that I am from the army?” he nodded and took another bite of his pizza. “Two years. Then I ventured out to other career outlets. This one stuck.”

“My uncle was in the military,” she nodded, truthfully. “It's obvious if you know what you're looking for.” Pausing to take another bite of her pizza, she tilted her head. “So what is it you do now exactly?”

“I manage funds for a few companies, make my own money by commission,” he told her. “I go where my bosses send me off to of course. I’m not my own boss.”

“Interesting.” Natasha nodded again, adjusting the knife on the table slightly so it was parallel with the fork. Natasha wasn't one for small talk, even though a good majority of her missions involved it. Clint was better at it than she was and would often take over if she needed him to. Pulling out her own phone, she held it up. “Find anything interesting on here?”

Turning it to face herself, she immediately began to go through it, looking to see if anything had changed. 

“I didn’t look, I only pocketed it,” he told her. “You should secure it. Had someone else found the phone, you could get into some kind of a problem. There is a scratch though, not sure if I did that.”

“It probably happened when it fell,” she admitted, turning it over in her hands. The crack was pretty obvious. She'd just get Tony to fix it later. Knowing him, he'd probably just buy her a whole new phone. “People know better than to go through my phone. I usually don't have to worry about it.”

“Why? Are you a special ops intelligence officer?” he asked, smiling to her. The way she carried herself, the way she talked and the words she used pretty much sounded like it. Interrupted by a phone call, he excused himself and picked up the call.

She nodded when he had to take a call, glad for the diversion. Maybe he'd forget his question by the time he got back. She turned her phone on and looked through her pictures. The reason people knew better than to take her phone was because she'd always know exactly who it was. Thanks to Tony, she had installed a safety precaution that allowed for a picture to be taken of someone with the front facing camera any time her phone was turned on. It made for lots of pictures of herself, but at the end of the day, the precaution was helpful.

She opened up her photo gallery and saved the picture of “Charles” and uploaded it to SHIELD’s face finding database. A large profile came up, and she quickly looked up at him to make sure he was still busy on the phone. In the way of a name, all she could find was a list of aliases, but no definite name. Her eyes ran over the various reports on him and her eyebrow raised. It wasn't anything good, but she hadn't read much yet. 

“Sorry about that,” he said, looking back to her as he pocketed the phone. “I have to return to work soon. It was a pleasure having this meeting. Is there any kind of possibility for us to meet again? Just out of curiosity?”

He kept his smile on. A boyish, yet rogue-like smile on his face that spoke measures of his personality.

Natasha would be lying if she said she wasn't intrigued by him. Despite her reform of sorts, Natasha was still enthralled by things bad and dangerous for her. The new life she lived came with its perks, but it was mostly boring. And if what he said was true, he wasn't going to be here just longer anyways. 

She waved the waitress over and asked for the check and for one pepperoni pizza to go, nodding back to her company. “I’d like that,” she nodded, taking the check from the waitress and paying for both of their meals. “How should I find you?”

“How about exchanging numbers and we can decide after?” he suggested, pulling out his phone again and handing it to her so she could key her number into his phone. “Give yourself a missed call and save it. Charles Bernard.”

Taking his phone, she texted herself from his phone the words ‘Charles Bernard.’ And nodded when her phone dinged. “That sounds good to me. Thank you for the phone.” Standing, Natasha took the box of to go pizza for Clint and left the tip on the table.

Taking his phone back, he nodded and got to his feet, leaving some cash on the table as well. “See you around,” he said to her with a smile.

“Yea, you too, Charles,” she smiled a little, wanting to seek polite, waiting for him to walk first, not exactly trusting him to be behind her. 

The man walked out of there with calm and calculated steps. She was right, despite the way he looked he truly did exude a demeanor of a military man. Getting into the parked car not too far from the parlor, he left the scene almost as quickly as he had come.

 

[Message received at 20:33]  
Hi, Ms Natasha. Charles here, just checking if you saved my number. :)  
[Message received at 20:34]  
By the way, do you like cats? Check this out.  
{Click to download picture attachment}

By the time Natasha had checked her phone again, she had dropped off Clint’s phone and the pizza and was back in her own apartment for the night. She had turned on Game of Thrones, a show Tony had gotten her into, and was lying on her couch when she noticed the red blinking on her phone. Seeing the messages from Charles, Natasha clicked on the picture attachment, smiling at the picture of the cat yawning, and soon began to type back, deciding to mess with him. 

[Message sent at 21:26]  
Who is this? -N

[Message received at 21:28]  
You have been randomly selected as a winner for a free 4-course dinner. Please reply with an affirmative answer and our funds managet will come to your place with a free gift wine!

Nat smiled softly and paused the tv, waiting a bit before responding. Clint hated her dad jokes, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity. 

[Message sent at 21:45]  
“An affirmative answer and our funds manager will come to your place with a free gift wine!”

[Message received at 21:50]  
Your number has been registered. Please reply with your address and favorite tyoe of wine.  
[Message received at 21:51]  
Excuse the typo. Fat fingers too fast.

Natasha paused again. Giving him her address was a risky move considering what she had been reading about him, but as long as they were in her apartment, she had the upper hand. So she shrugged and picked her phone back up. 

[Message sent at 21:56]  
12 5th Street  
Apartment No. 221

[Message sent at 21:57]  
Two is a party. Three's a crowd. -N

Hopefully he'd know better than to bring anyone else around. 

[Message received at 22:02]  
And a 4-course meal makes any tummy proud. Any food preference?

[Message sent at 22:04]  
Tacos are my favorite. -N

[Message received at 22:06]  
See you

Nat set her phone down and picked the remote back up, continuing to watch her show. Everything in her was telling her that this was a bad idea. Then why was she doing it? Clint was busy with paperwork tonight, so it wasn't likely that he'd just drop by unexpectedly. And the rest of the team face her forewarning before dropping by. Which, in the case of Charles Bernard being someone dangerous wasn't ideal, but she knew she could handle herself.


	2. Chapter 2

Within the hour, the redhead was dressed and ready with wine and tacos and pizza. When he got to her home, he rang the doorbell and waited patiently.

He wore a casual t-shirt and a jacket, dark jeans to match. Now he looked more at home and natural compared to his primed up suit.

Upon hearing the door knock, Natasha stood and walked over, looking through the peephole and laughed at the sight. More pizza plus wine and tacos. He did look less conspicuous than he did in the suit. She opened the door and backed in so he could come inside. “Oh, that was you on the phone? I had no clue.”

“Some marketing stunt our company is up for,” he said and raised the bags of food he was holding onto. “As what you ordered. May I come in?”

“And what company did you say that was?” Nodding for him to come in, Natasha closed the door when he did, reflexively locking it without even thinking about it. She strode back across the room and turned the tv off, plopping back on the couch. “Sit wherever you like.”

“I don’t know actually, some… Sailing company?” he said, shrugging as he sets the food on the table. “Tacos as you requested, pizzas. Wine. I got chocolate brownies and ice cream for desserts. Do you like chocolate?”

She laughed, almost surprised and tilted her head. “You don't know what company you work for?” That's a horrible cover. “And, yes, thank you. I love chocolate. But not that white shit. That's not really chocolate.”

Natasha knew the ball was in her court tonight. She could either call his bluff or see how this played out. She decided to keep quiet for a bit and see what his plan was. 

“Oh I know the company I work for, I just can’t tell you in case you look it up and question why they sent their funds manager with tacos,” he laughed softly. “Oh and don’t worry this is good chocolate. Real good brownie chocolate.”

“But you just said you don't know.” Natasha reached forward and took a taco, unwrapping it. Tacos were her favorite, and it was often an argument between her and Clint as to whether or not it'd be tacos or pizzas for dinner. Whoever didn't pick food got to pick the movie, so she usually let him pick the food. 

“Is investigating usually your job?” he asked, looking to her with a smile. “Do you need my company name? Because…”

He pulled out his wallet and handed her his name card. Charles Bernard as he had introduced himself to her in the beginning.

“No,” she started, “I'm just a habitually curious person.” Turning the card over in her hand, she nodded once, setting it down on the table next to her food. It definitely checked out, so maybe he wasn't so dumb. 

“Do tell me if ‘habitually curious person’ has any more question,” he said. “Do you have any glasses? Or party cups for the wine?”

Glancing around the house, he started helping himself to a little curiosity of his own. He simply wanted to know more about her from the way she placed her belongings around the room. It felt strange. Something is wrong here. It felt like he had just walked into another man’s house. It was just really obvious for a man like him. The musk was overwhelming.

She watched him carefully as he moved around. She had weapons hidden all over the place and inside things and weapons that looked like normal household items. Watching him move around, she took in a short breath, wondering what he was looking for. “Yea, I do. Give me a second.”

Standing up, Natasha walked past him and into her kitchen, picking up two wine glasses before taking the gun she kept in the wine cabinet and shoving it towards the back so it wouldn't be seen if he came looking. Once she was finished, Nat walked back into the living room and sat back down on her couch, setting down the two glasses. “See something you like?”

“Yes actually. You have a nice place,” he said with a smile and then sat down on the couch as well. “It feels really homely. I mean, I’m rarely home. Do you have any pets?”

“Thank you. And no,” she shook her head as she poured out the wine into both glasses, glad that he didn't offer to pour. That would've made her have to go through the trouble of having to test it for drugs. After she filled his glass, she handed it to him and took her own in hand. “To Good Samaritans who give phones back.”

Taking the glass, he raised it with a smile. “And to phone owners who like tacos,” he said, smirking and taking a sip of his wine. It was not going to be easy, he could tell. They were both seemingly walking on eggshells. He knew she was not some girl and he knew she didn’t trust him but it wasn’t like he was going to do anything bad to her.

Reaching out, he took a pizza slice and started eating. “I could eat this all day.”

“Yea? I mean, pizza is alright. But tacos are better,” she nodded, taking a sip of the wine once he had taken a sip of his. It was good, definitely not as good as some of the stuff Tony had made her drink, but still good nonetheless. Nat set the glass back down and took a bite of her taco, looking back at him. 

“Speaking of tacos, while ordering for yours I actually overheard a customer placing her order,” he said, licking his fingertips of the pizza juices. “She said something like… ‘I’d like to get the soft shell tacos… but fry the shell.’ I just about lost it there.”

“Ew, what the fuck?” Natasha's face contorted into a mixture of shock and disgust as she broke character for a split second. “I mean.. that's pretty horrible. I'm glad you didn't get that?”

“No. Why would I get that?” he laughed at her reaction. It was hilarious, honestly.

After his first glass of wine, he had taken off his jacket and set it aside so he was more comfortable.

“I mean,” she started, leaning back on the couch with her glass after she had finished her first taco, “You could be an idiot. You found a phone on the ground and didn't go through it. What if there was credit card information on there? Bank accounts? You could've made a shit ton of money.” 

Her eyebrow raised as she looked at him from over the brim of her glass, taking a sip. She thought that might strike some sort of nerve with him, so she watched carefully for any change in behavior as he spoke. 

“True. Or I could be a nice guy. An honest guy who already have made a ton of money?” he laughed softly. “If I were a bad guy, I would have gone through it and looked for nudes to blackmail the owner. I thought about it but, well… I’m too busy for that. Tell you the truth, I actually forgot about the phone until it rang in my pocket earlier.”

Natasha almost spit out her drink. Instead she laughed, shaking her head and swallowing her wine. “I can assure you that there are no nudes on my phone. Decent people don't do that. Why, do you have some on yours?” As she finished her glass, she filled both of theirs once more, smiling to him. 

Upon her question, he took out his phone and scoffed, keeping it away again. “No! Obviously not!”

He was just a humorous man like that, enjoying dark humor and inappropriate jokes as such.

She couldn't help the small smirk that played on her lips as she brought her glass to her lips. “Really? Prove it.” 

“Okay. I have to rearrange my words into proper structure. There are no nudes of myself in my phone,” he said, correcting himself.

“So either you have ones of other people or ones of yourself and not on your phone.” She reached forward and unwrapped her second taco, pouring the fire sauce all over it. Taking a big bite, she went quiet, thinking of what she could talk about with him. “Got any family?”

“I plead the fifth,” he said easily with a small smirk as he drained his wine. As she asks about his family, he just shook his head. “I don’t have anybody right now. Probably why I work to death. What about you?”

Natasha shook her head, laughing softly. “No, I'm sort of in the same boat. My parents actually died when I was twelve.” It wasn't a lie, and she knew it. But it wasn't as if she hadn't come to terms with that truth. It was just as common to her as the face she saw in the mirror every day. It was her, not some sob story. If she really wanted a sob story, she had a plethora of covers to pull from. “I also work out a lot. That's a great time consumer.”

“Touché,” he said. “Sometimes you just have to move on from down points. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, then comes back and tries to kill you again.”

“I wouldn't know anything about being killed,” she laughed. It was the first lie that she had told that night, and the irony was staggering. If only he knew. Finishing her third taco, she leaned back on the couch, crossing her legs. “Would you?”

He smiled to her and shrugged, taking another sip of wine. “Well, I mean. If you count my ex-girlfriend who tried to run me over in her pink cadillac. Or that cat my neighbour owns who keeps trying to scratch my face off. Yeah, that would make a couple of times.”

Her eyebrows raised, and she took another sip of her wine. “Really? You've almost gotten killed by a cat? That's.. really anticlimactic.”

Dammit. That's not what she was going for. Natasha drew in another breath, tilting her head. “You piss off your exes a lot?” she asked as she watched him. “You know, you don't have to sit on the floor, right? You can come up here on the couch.”

“Yeah,” he looked up when she invited him on the couch, so he pushed himself up by the elbow and got up to the couch, sitting himself next to her. “Unfortunately, I find out some girls just do not enjoy being flings. And I don’t stick around long enough for anything to be more than a fling.”

“That's not surprising,” Natasha started, shaking her head. “I mean, it's hard to stick around for one place too long when you're a thief.” 

She drew in a long breath, waiting patiently as she watched him. Her eye contact didn't break for one second. Now she had him up there with her, and she was between him and the door. Thankful that he had come to sit up there, she smiled pleasantly and tilted her head, waiting for his response. 

He turned to her, letting out a soft laugh as he takes a sip of his wine. A small smirk appeared behind his glass, his eyes simply studying her fierce and unwavering gaze. “Quite true. But I’m no thief. I like to think I am more of a… clever opportunist.”

“So that's what you call organized crime? I guess that does sound better.” Her words hung in the air as she continued to watch him. She stared into his eyes, impressed at the composure with which he held himself. “I call it illegal, and my job to call it in.” 

“Sounds like a pretty strict regime for a records keeper,” he said, unyielding by now as he looks back to her. “Look. I came to have pizza and wine, deliver some good brownies and tacos. And I’ll be out of here in no time. You can call the cops on me, I’m clean. I have nothing to fear.”

“Seriously?” She couldn't hold it in any longer. “You really have no clue who I am?” Natasha wasn't complaining. It was nice to not be known, but someone of his… report, certainly must know who the Avengers are. “I don't report to the cops. It's a little higher up the food chain than that. And.. the food is good, so take your time.”

Sitting back on the couch, she watched him, leaning on the arm. “The company isn't horrible either.”

He took a deep breath and then just sighed, pressing a point on the bridge of his nose as he made a thinking face. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were squeezed shut. “Sometimes, it is nice to not be recognised. Just to be incognito at times. But you make it hard… You really do.”

He looked up to her and set the glass down. “Alright. So you’re only the best female assassin ever known as hired by the failure of a super secret organization called SHIELD. Which I have to mention, is doing a pretty shitty job of utilizing their resources in the right places. I mean, if I had the Black Widow in a team of elite ‘superheroes’ I’d be dealing with much more than just sitting idle waiting for an alien race to drop from the skies. Again.” he let out a scoff and shook his head. “But I have to admit, not easy pulling off stunts like that while still looking phew… gorgeous like that.”

Hearing him list off her abridged resumé, Natasha slowly started to laugh, running her tongue across her teeth, a small smirk growing on her face. “I take back what I said about you being an idiot. And, thank you, by the way, for the compliment.” It wasn't as if Natasha was actively looking for relationships. When they happened, they were few and far in between, but the men that she did run into, tended to be a type, and Barney was no exception. 

Sighing, she set her glass down after finishing it for the second time. “So where does that leave us tonight? I can't exactly let you go.”

Visibly wincing at her words, he hissed softly like it hurt and he shrugged, looking to the table. “I mean, we could wrestle and you could take me in with a few broken bones. Or I’ll end up hurting you and then jumping out the window, AND break a few bones. Or we could… Watch a movie and see where the wine takes us. It is entirely up to you.”

“You really think you could beat me?” Her head tilted and her eyes glistened as she spoke, her look almost challenging. Running a hand through her hair, she sat up in her seat and poured another glass for herself. 

“I’m not one to brag but… Well… I have these guns…” he said, flexing his arm muscles and popping out some eggs on his biceps. He meant it more in a playful way, never one to actually get involved in fight despite having fists that hits like a truck.

Natasha gave a small facial shrug and downed her whole glass of wine, holding it over the coffee table before crushing it in her hand, careful to release fast so she didn't cut herself. “Why brag when you can actually show up?” Her apartment was littered with weapons and bondage equipment and poisons and traps that she knew, if she got him in the right places, she would win, but right now, she had to figure out how to get him there. It was exciting to Natasha, and she smiled, picking up a piece of glass from the ground. “Oops.”

“Oh dear. Some fragile glass you have in this place. You need to change your dishes and glasses,” he teased. She was challenging him, he knew of it. “Well… We really do have a lot in common. It would be hard to deny.”

He got to his feet, stretching up to just loosen his back muscles. He then stretched his legs, doing some simple lunges and loosening his thigh muscles. “It has been a while.”

“What the hell are you doing? Are you stretching?” Her eyebrows raised as she watched him. Was he really stretching. She stood and started to clean up the table, throwing it in the trash can next to the tv, never taking her eyes off of him. “How old are you? Also, fuck you. My glassware is the best.”

“Old enough, don’t worry,” he said, suddenly hopping on the spot like he was gearing up for a boxing match. “Have to be light on my feet in case you decide to do some special move. Signature Black Widow move of some sort.”

Once she was finished, she stood in front of him, crossing her arms. ‘Signature Black Widow move of some sort.’ That's adorable. Everything she did was meant to be unpredictable. If he thought he could analyze her fight patterns, he'd be sorely mistaken. “Have you studied my fighting?”

“Nope. I don’t own a tv,” he said, pretending to shadow box and dodge some shots from her. “Okay before we begin I have to say if you take the first punch, I’m not going down easy.”

“Yea, you are,” she smirked, watching him do his warmup of sorts. “Ever heard the saying ‘the bigger they come the harder they fall?’ You're a good foot taller than I am. And I'm going to love watching you fall.” Natasha took a second, her eyes skimming the room as she mentally remembered the things she placed around the room. “I guess I'll be polite. Ladies first.”

“I’ll take that offer because my size is a disadvantage,” he agreed, taking a step forth and making a false jab into her side.

As soon as he stepped forward and aimed the false punch at her side, she stepped backwards, watching as he followed through, taking another step forward. When he did so, Natasha grabbed him by his shirt collar and pulled him forward, head butting him. Taking a step back, she turned and directed a hard roundhouse kick to his chest and he flew back into the couch. Quickly, he stood and shoved the table out of the way, making his way back over to her where he grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her into the wall, his fist following through and landing in the wall where her face should have been, but thankfully she ducked. And in the process, Natasha sent a solid right hook into his rib cage, pushing him off her when she had finished. 

He didn't seem to like that too much. Staggering back, he gathered his bearings and looked at Natasha, rubbing his face. Seeing that Natasha stood taller once he backed away, he saw the opportunity and lunged forward, grabbing her around the waist and tackling her to the ground. “See? Stretching helps-”

Natasha let out a low grunt and glared up at him, bringing her knee up to nail him in the gut. “Funny, I didn't see you stretching your stomach.” He rolled off of her in pain, so she quickly stood up, inhaling sharply as she stood above him. Nat brought her foot back to kick him in the face, but instead, the other redhead grabbed her foot and yanked her back onto the floor, using his grip around her ankle to pull her underneath him. Once she was properly situated beneath him, he grabbed her wrists and held them there above her head, a wide smirk playing across her face. 

As he opened his mouth to speak, Natasha wrapped her legs tightly around her opponent’s waist and twisted them to the side, using the leverage to pull herself from under him and on top of him. Her smirk mirrored the one he had been showing off earlier as she reached up and grabbed his wrists, holding them both down with one hand above his head as she straddled him. 

“So what now, Agent Romanoff? Are you going to take me in for… stealing?” he asked, a smirk still evident on his face. He was panting from the string of actions that they had divulged themselves into.

Natasha looked down at him, catching her breath as her hair fell in front of her face. She had won, but that was no surprise to her. Now it was up to her what she did. Nat had dealt with people plenty worse than Charles and not brought them in. She knew she was going to regret this, but she didn't care. The rest of the team got to have their fun, so why couldn't she?

“No.” Her grip on his wrists slowly loosened, and her fingers trailed down the inside of his left arm as she brought her hand to his shoulder, balancing herself as she leaned down and pressed a long kiss to his lips, the adrenaline from the fight still coursing through her. 

One of two things were going to happen there and then, and boy was he glad this happened. His hands found her waist naturally as their lips met, the adrenaline mixed with wine was bittersweet in the kiss.

Natasha let out a soft sigh as she continued to kiss him, letting her long hair fall down her shoulders and around his face. Her brain suddenly went on autopilot. That wasn't good, and she knew it, but something about him just felt so.. right and familiar. Natasha wasn't one for destiny and all that shit, and she certainly hoped her ‘destiny’ wasn't to end up with a ‘clever opportunist,’ but this didn't feel horribly wrong. Pulling away slightly, she looked down at him, whispering against his lips, “My bed is a lot more comfortable than the ground, unless you just like that sort of thing. I'm not opposed.”

The man’s eyebrows raised as he watched her, pressing his hand to the small of her back. “Yea, no, bed is good.” And without any further ado, he sat up, wrapping his arm around Natasha's waist and standing. “Where to, Black Widow?”

The name wasn't one Natasha usually preferred to go by, it seemed silly to her, but hey, she wasn't complaining. “This way.” She nodded to him down the hall where her room was, and in a matter of seconds, he was pushing the door open and walking over to her bed. Before he could set her down, she had already taken off her shirt and had reattached her lips to his earlobe, biting gently and earning a surprised sound from him before he set her down on the bed, leaning over her as he straddled her small waist.

He quickly got rid of his shirt and leaned back down, towering over her. “So this doesn't change anything. I told you about my track record with women.” As he spoke, he slowly ground his hips into hers, biting down into his lip as his smile curled into a smirk. 

“You're the one getting into bed with someone called the ‘Black Widow.’ Don't talk to me about track records.” Natasha let out a soft laugh and reached between them, shimmying out of her sweat pants. Once she was done, she kicked them to the ground, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But don't mind me.”

Charles let out a soft laugh and shook his head. The fact that just twenty minutes ago, they were sparring in her living room and now they were about to have sex in her bed made him want to laugh. He had heard plenty about Nat, and the fact that she was doing this and not, say, emasculating him was something he was grateful for. Watching her, he pressed up against her once more and brought his hand between them to undo his pants, but he had a bit of trouble with the zipper. “God… damn.. fucking.. fuck it.” Instead, he ripped the zipper and threw the pants to the ground, laughing to himself as he pressed his lips against the base of her jaw. 

Natasha let out a short sigh as she wrapped her legs around his hips, grinding up softly against him, her head rolling back into the pillow as he gently sucked on her neck, pressing into her slowly, canting his hips slowly into hers. Her fingers gripped the hair on his head as he continued, eventually, until the two of them had both been spent. Charles dropped down next to her in bed, catching his breath. At some point, one of the sheet corners had come off the bed and was now uncomfortably bunched up beneath his shoulder. His face dramatically screwed up as he reached behind his head, struggling to tuck it back on the corner of the bed, having some difficulty since his weight was keeping the sheet from stretching out. 

Nat watched him silently, laughing at the sight. She was exhausted herself and sat there, taking a deep breath. “Just.. leave it. I'll fix it in the morning.” Grabbing a pillow, she turned her back to Barney and hugged the pillow before silently handcuffing her wrist to the post. 

His eyebrow raised, but he didn't say anything. Instead he shrugged and took a pillow of his own, hugging it on the opposite side with his back to her. “Fair warning. I hog the sheets.”

“Don't worry. I'm used to the cold. I'm Russian. But you knew that already, didn't you?”

“You're smart.”

“Thanks,” she laughed. “I'm eating those brownies, by the way.”


	3. Chapter 3

He was used to Kate stumbling in and ‘borrowing’ his arrows ammo — not that she ever thought about giving them back, that girl had a thing for destroying them. It wasn't as though he got mad or anything, Stark always took care it and there were plenty of multi-purpose arrows to use. However, he just couldn't find his net arrow anywhere. He looked everywhere for it and even called Kate, Jess and even Simone, then the latter just sighed and politely hung up. He supposed he deserved that. Really, he couldn't have used it so where could it have gone? As a ‘I’m all out of options’ he finally thought to pursue Nat’s place, in desperate hopes of finding the little bugger. Besides, he hadn't seen her in like a day so he also missed her. Getting to her apartment, he knocked, perfectly aware that he had a key in his possession but unfortunately that was forgotten back at his own apartment. 

Having woken and dressed up well enough to look decent, Charles had been looking around in the kitchen to find a glass to drink some water. That was when he heard the sound of knocking at the door. All he could ever think about was Natasha had called for back up to get him. Escape is a good option. Steeling his heart, he had a butter knife in his hand and he headed to open the door carefully.

Natasha woke up as soon as Charles did, but stayed put, wondering what he was going to do. She could hear him getting dressed from her spot in bed and just remained quiet, listening. As soon as he was gone, she sat up and uncuffed her arm, listening to him outside of her room. He just seemed to be moving around. Nothing seemed odd or bad until she heard the knock at the door. “Shit..”

The last thing she needed was someone seeing what she had done. She quickly hopped out of bed and yanked on one of Clint's old t shirts that he had left at her place before, making her way to the living room as fast as she could, her body aching quite a bit between the fight and everything else that had happened last night. “Charles, don't-”

There was some shuffling on the other side before the door was opened and he decided to prompt and hopefully take her by surprise. “I know it's the millionth time I've come unannounced, but I promise this time it's urgent. I can't find— Barney? What the hell are you doing here?” He exclaimed. He can't have just walked in the the wrong apartment, he knew the route by heart. “The hell is going on?” His eyebrows lifted even further, spotting his friend making her way over, clad in a shirt that was several sizes bigger than her. 

“Clint?” the redheaded man whispered out   
of both surprise and curiosity. He could read from the archer’s face that he knew the femme fatale. Looking back to Natasha and then to Clint, Charles only smirked and walked away. “Well, this is awkward.”

“Oh my god..” It could have been anyone else. Tony would have been preferable. He would have come and gone and not pass any judgment. No questions asked. And Steve would have been too embarrassed to stick around. But Clint.. not that he was going to judge, at least too harshly, he would also expect and deserve an explanation. He was her best friend after all. She opened her mouth to start explaining, but Clint seemed to know who he was. And.. Charles knew who Clint was. “I'm sorry,” she started, taking a step closer, “did I miss something?”

He ignored the older one completely, shaking his head as he brushed past him and entered. “Out of all the people in this world and others.. you had to bang Barney Barton. Unbelievable.” 

Her eyes immediately widened as it all came together. The pizza, the ‘familiar’ way he acted, the military background, and the unsavory lifestyle that Clint had told her about. No wonder he reminded her of Clint. “Oh.. shit.” Natasha slowly drew in a deep breath and looked at Barney, giving him a look bordering a glare. “You knew who I was and didn't think it pertinent to mention that you're his brother.” It came out more as a statement than a question. She wasn't horribly mad at him, it was her fault for sleeping with him. But this was quite the predicament.

“Hey. I didn’t know that you’re chummies with my brother. You’re Black Widow, I figured you wouldn’t be hanging out with losers,” he scoffed and walked away to get the glass of water, returning the butter knife on the table.

He didn't take the bait, there was a time he would but he'd long since learned now. In truth, he didn't even know what to think about it. It wasn't like Nat couldn't take care of herself should Barney decided to go psycho and recruit her to whoever his handler was these days. He liked to think this was purely coincidental but it was just hard to judge. Shaking his head, he approached his friend and asked, “Have you seen my net arrow?” 

“Hey, he's not a loser.” After a moment of thinking, she shrugged and tilted her head. “I mean maybe a little. But that loser is my best friend, so watch it. I could still have you arrested.” Turning to Clint she took a deep breath, her face apology-ridden as she went to talk to him. “I don't.. think it's here.” Mouthing the words ‘I'm sorry,’ knowing full well he could read her lips, she smiled sympathetically and closed the door behind Clint.

Charles finished drinking from his cup as she went to speak to her friend. He then headed off to get his jacket and put it on, finding his boots to put them on as well.

“Why're you apologizing?” He asked her. Like he said, she was all grown up and a master assassin and most importantly didn't need him. Turning around he shot his brother a look which didn't mean to look as if he cared or anything. “Are you going to tell me where to find you?” 

“I know, it's still crossing a line.” Natasha let out a short sigh. She knew how Clint felt about Barney, at least by way of how many stories he had told her. According to Clint, he was a pretty big asshole, but so far, he hadn't been one. She shook her head, rubbing her face and walked into the kitchen to make herself a bowl of cereal.

“Well. I seem to have overstayed my welcome, so I’d better excuse myself,” he said, getting up to his feet and smiling to the both of them. “I won’t take much of your time anymore and of course, I’ll stay out of your life Clint, as usual.”

Charles then walked over to Natasha, smiling to her. “I had fun last night. If you feel like we need to meet again, feel free to just dial me.”

“You don't have to leave, all right? Just play nice. But if you have to, I understand.” Without really looking up at him, Natasha poured the milk into her cereal, setting a spoon inside before she finally turned and looked up at him. She kept her voice somewhat low and just barely gave him a smile. “Let me know if I win any more company dinners.” 

Clint just watched silently, baffled. With Ivan and his other problems, this had to be the icing on the cake, the little cherry at the top of an ice-cream. He'd been faced with so many problems so far that he didn't even react anymore. What was the point anyway? He couldn't say he didn't want to know where his brother was at, but he figured that would just mean trouble. Hearing what Barney said about Nat contacting him meant that the spy had his number. It was all he needed though he was going to ask later. Leaving them in the kitchen, he went and sat down like it every day you walked in on your best friend and brother, and waited for them to finish. 

“Nah. Wouldn’t be nice to stay too long when your best friend gets all pissy,” he said with a smile. Thoughtfully pondering over her suggestion of company dinners, he nodded in silent agreement. “Chiao.”

Charles turned and walked to the door, only glancing to Clint for a brief eye contact before leaving entirely. He didn’t want to talk too much to his estranged brother. 

Seeing Charles leave, Natasha took her bowl of cereal and walked back into the living room, silently sitting on the couch. “So…”

Clint only rubbed at his face tiredly. He couldn't say he was mad at Nat, no one was perfect and he continuously messed up himself. It was safe to say that this wasn't about Nat at all, but rather, Clint's subconscious was too mad at Barney to put it into words. “We don't have to talk about it if you want? I’m not in the position to tell you who to sleep with and who not to.” 

“I mean… I wouldn't have done it if I knew.” Mixing her cereal, she took a bite, looking up at him. She would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the time she spent with Barney. But Clint came first. He always did. “If it helps, I don't think he's sticking around very long.”

“Well, Barney does that. Hell, I had an idea that he was on the other side of the world as of thirty minutes ago. Apparently not,” Being passive aggressive towards the whole situation might just be his only way of getting through this without any trouble. He didn't doubt that Barney would make another appearance, though why, it was simply beyond him. Him and Nat meeting wasn't fate, he knew his brother too much for that. 

Natasha nodded quietly and continued to eat her cereal. The last thing she wanted to do was make Clint upset, but she couldn't promise that she wouldn't see him again. “He found my phone on the side of the road a few nights ago. That's how we met. Nothing nefarious, if that's what you're thinking.”

“I wasn't thinking it,” he looked back at her, honestly just a little shocked that this was happening in the first place. “It's just.. mThat's Barney, Nat. He’ll take your trust and crumble it and leave it in a ditch somewhere.” 

“You know me, Clint. I'm not one to hand out my trust to every Tom, Dick and Carnie.” Usually, she would have laughed at her pun, but she figured it wouldn't be in great taste at the moment. Instead, she finished up her cereal and set the bowl down. It was definitely an odd position, both for her and for Clint. Sighing, she set the bowl down and looked at him. “I'll be careful.”

“No, I know,” Clint replied. “I'm just telling you trusting him is the absolute worst thing you can do. What you do with him is cool, and I'll know you'll be careful.” He trusted her, but not his brother which said a lot. Trust was a flexible pull though, for example, he can trust Barney to save his life but he won't so much as leave a possession with him. Their friendship was weird, and occasionally when someone popped up in the other’s life, it was messy. 

“I won't trust him then,” she nodded, leaning over to where Clint was and testing her head on his shoulder. “Thank you for not being upset.”

“It's okay, don't worry about it.” Clint nodded. Going quiet for a moment he thought to crack a joke, “Are you still wearing his shirt? That's classy,” It wasn't as though he was jealous. Not that they'd slept together, that's for sure. However, he didn't want Nat to spend more time with Barney and leave him out of the frame. She was his best friend, not Barney’s. 

Natasha couldn't help laughing. That was adorable. So blindsided by jealousy that he didn't actually notice the real facts. “It's actually your shirt, Clint. And excuse you, I'm extremely classy. I don't know who you're talking about,” she smiled. She was glad that he wasn't upset. If he was, she wasn't sure what she would do. Nuzzling her head on his shoulder, she took a deep breath. “Catch up on the finale of Puppy FBI? I recorded it.”


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Natasha woke up alone in her apartment. Clint had stayed for a few hours after Barney left, and they had talked. She was grateful that he didn't just leave in a fit. If she could, Natasha would have stayed in bed all day, but she knew she had to go to the tower. Today she was training with Sam. Those days were some of her favorites. Sam already had a higher level of training, so what she taught him was mostly polishing fighting style or new tactical approaches to missions. He brought a comic relief to her day that was much appreciated, so training him wasn't so awful. 

Today she had him going over failed case files and pointing out what went wrong and how it could have been remedied. While the two sat there at the conference table, Natasha tapped her fingers against her lap. The answer seemed obvious to her, but she didn't want to make Sam feel bad, so she kept quiet and just waited for him to figure it out. 

Her phone ringing would evidently be the last of things she would expect to happen. It was anticlimactic and also pretty unprofessional. Yet still, it happened. On the screen was a familiar number saved under the name of a certain Charles Bernard, one more surprise that was brought to her day.

Not expecting any calls, Natasha furrowed her brow and apologized to Sam, pulling out her phone and answering. She stood and walked away from the table, seeing who it was. The last thing she needed was Sam to bother her about this. “Charles?” 

“Hi! You have been randomly selected for an absolutely random survey. Please answer a few questions for a start. Number one, which floor of the Avengers tower has white walls and long stretches of hallways with a vending machine at the end of it?” he went on, his voice echoing slightly as he described the hallways he was actually in.

“That would be the facilities floor. Why.. are you here?” Her eyes widened and she turned her back to Sam, looking up at the security camera. He couldn't be here. Why the hell would he come to the Avengers Tower? 

“Surprise! I’m in the Avengers tower. It’s almost time for dinner and I want to take you out. Are you surprised?” he asked cheekily as he wandered the halls and grumbled to himself before turning back again. “Dead end. Why does this tower have so many dead ends? Who built this shit?”

Natasha blinked, going silent for a second. He really was in the tower. Charles Barton was in the freaking Avengers Tower. She didn't know what to do, but when he mentioned dinner, she stopped. “Charles, it’s two in the afternoon, I don't..” The fact that he wanted to take her out about blew her to the ground. Was this a date? What the hell was he trying to do? She had so many questions, and she really didn't know what she should do. “Tony Stark. You may have heard of him.” Turning to look at Sam, she took a deep breath. “Something's come up. Can we finish this tomorrow?”

He walked around again, trying to find the way out of there without being noticed as a wandering suspicious article in the building. Narrowing his eyes when he hears her speak to someone, he spoke on the phone. “Are you with another man?” he asked teasingly.

“Yes, actually, I am.” She thanked Sam once he left and packed up all their papers. As soon as she was sure he was gone, she grabbed her ID card and walked through the main room towards an elevator. “Jealous?” 

“Not at all. Like I said before, just a random survey,” he said. “Listen. I’m by the elevator, I just don’t know whether I am supposed to go up or down or wherever. This place is confusing. I thought I was going to the common floor.”

Natasha couldn't help the small smile that played on her lips as she walked to the elevator door. She didn't know why she was this excited. It wasn't as if she had feelings towards Barney. It took a hell of a lot on her for her to develop friendly feelings towards anyone, much less feelings of that other vein. But something about Barney excited her. Maybe it was the fact that really, she shouldn't be doing this. Or that he raised some sort of challenge to her. Whatever it was, she was definitely interested. 

“Just stay put,” she started, getting into the elevator. “I'll come to you.” The elevator doors closed behind her, and she punched in the numbers, letting it take her two floors above where she was. Natasha laughed at the fact that Barney had actually passed her by two floors. 

“Fair enough,” he told her before hanging up the call and pocketing the phone. He waited patiently, his eyes studying everything around him and memorizing the patterns of the corridor. He could only imagine the blueprint of this entire building.

When he heard the familiar ‘ting!’ sound, he knew someone was coming out of the elevator. In case it was not her, he stepped aside from the doorway and waited by the side as inconspicuously as he could be.

Stepping out of the elevator once the doors opened, Natasha looked around, walking around the pretty much always abandoned floor. Her head tilted when she didn't see him. “Charles?”

“Hi,” his voice came from around the corner and he was just all smiles when he sees her. “Nice training outfit. Accentuates your legs. So… Let’s go for dinner!”

Natasha careful flinched when she saw him. It wasn't because he surprised her. It took a lot to surprise her. It was the cheerfulness with which he greeted her that threw her off guard. He certainly seemed happy. Her head tilted and she smiled a little, slightly confused. “Thank you. And.. like I said. It's only two. How is that dinner?”

“It is dinner, somewhere else. Come on, I’m hungry. Shall we?” he smiled and hiked a finger to the elevator.

“If you say so.” Natasha quickly pulled her ID back out and swiped it in front of the elevator, pulling Barney inside with her. As soon as the doors shut, she looked at him, still gripping the front of his shirt, tightly, but not angrily. “You realize coming here was stupid, right?”

The way she gripped his shirt made him feel like he had been thrown back into the wilderness once more. She was always full of surprises, he figured as he chuckles softly and looked back to her.

“I just wanted to come see where you work and what you do. Besides, you probably already know that my business has no relations to what SHIELD would have to deal with,” he smirked and then took a step forward, sandwiching her to the wall of the elevator. “I liked hanging out with you, so I came to spend more free time with you. If you don’t want to, I’m not forcing you.”

Her eyes slowly widened as she felt the wall of the elevator push up against her back. Why was he so goddamn tall? Her breath hitched slightly as she looked up at him. This was going to be a long twenty floor descent. The power she had by dragging him by his shirt was quickly lost as he towered over her. She slowly let go of his shirt and just pressed the palm of her hand flat against his chest, going quiet. “Maybe not, but, my friends would arrest you in a moment’s notice. Especially Steve. He's got a daily ‘righteousness quota’ to fill.”

She couldn't really explain why her legs felt so weak right now. It was stupid. It really was. Clint had warned her not to trust him, and she wasn't exactly trusting him. But god, if she wasn't feeling something. She didn't know what it was though, but she loved it, and hated it. Natasha couldn't really tell anymore, so she just stared up at him, tilting her head back to rest against the cool metal of the elevator wall. “I'll definitely come with you.”

He stayed silent as she explained why his stupid decision to drop by this heavily guarded building was indeed stupid, simply listening to her words. Grinning when she finally replied with an affirmative answer to his invitation, he nodded and stayed there for a moment longer.

“Then we don’t have a problem,” he said. Taking a second to study her face and her eyes, he decided to do another stupid thing.

Charles leaned into her, pressing his lips on hers and just revelling in the feeling of it. Soft, tender lips that somehow felt like they were laced with poison as befitting to her alias.

The almost patronizing look he gave her as she spoke made her want to punch him, this time not holding back, but she couldn't. Once she finished speaking, she went quiet and just watched him, but before she knew it, his lips were on hers, and she had almost completely melted in his arms. 

Dammit, no! Everything in her mind was screaming at her to stop. Natasha Romanov was not someone swayed by passion or romantic gestures. She just wasn't. It was all stupid to her, and seemed generally without value. Insincere. But she couldn't help the small moan that escaped her lips as she kissed him back, the grip re-tightening around the fabric on his chest. 

He had definitely drank before he came to see her, but that shouldn't be a surprise since this was the same man who was taking her to dinner at lunch time. The rules of common time must not apply to Barney. 

Natasha couldn't exactly pull away from him, so she continued to kiss him, almost forgetting where she was or that the elevator had stopped and that the doors had opened onto the main Avengers floor. 

Pulling away abruptly from the kiss, he looked to the open door and only noticed that the setting was a lot different than the previous floor he had been to. “Living room?”

A slow clap could be heard from outside the elevator doors, and immediately, Natasha flushed, her skin slowly starting to match her hair. “Shit..” 

Her head rolled back, and she braced herself mentally for whomever might be outside the doors. Peeking over Barney’s shoulder, she saw it to be none other than Tony Stark. 

Of course. 

“I guess birds of a feather sleep together, huh?” Tony quipped, nodding to the red mop of hair on top of Barney’s head. “Oh don't let me stop you. I'm going to have Jarvis forward me these files to watch later anyways. Might as well continue.” The genius then plopped onto the couch, crossing one leg over the other. 

Looking over to the man who evidently owns the building, the redheaded man only smiled. “Don’t mind us. Just making out way down.”

He then turned to Natasha and stepped back to give her more space. Right. The security cameras. Another risk he had totally forgotten about.

“This is our stop,” Natasha mumbled, dragging Barney back out by the shirt once more, flipping Tony off as she went. As they left the living room, she directed him towards the front lobby and the exit where the revolving doors were. Knowing she couldn't exactly drag him through those, she let go, her face still a dark red as she took a deep breath. 

He only wore a smirk as he walked out along with Natasha who dragged him by the shirt. He followed her and then headed out of the revolving doors before straightening his shirt and standing by her side.

Once outside, Natasha turned and looked at Barney, rolling her eyes when she saw the smirk. It killed her. “Shut up, or I'll shut you up.” Her arms crossed over her chest, and she tried not to smile. “Where's ‘dinner?’”

“In a bar-restaurant thing nearby, come on,” he said, cocking his head to the street. Then he pointed at the black car that was parked by the front of the building. “We’ll take my car. Let’s go. Do you want to take down the car plate number or something?”

“I'm assuming it's stolen?” She walked with him towards the car, suddenly very aware of what was happening. Should she trust him to even get into the car? As long as it was just him, she should be fine, she thought and walked over with him. 

“Nope. Company property,” he said, grinning at her. He unlocked the car and then looked over to her with a smile. “Don’t worry. I like my women receptive so no date rape drugs in here, I assure you.”

Natasha let out a dry laugh, studying him before getting into the car. “That would be the end. And I would kill you. I don't care who's brother you are.” She quietly slid into the passenger seat, buckling herself in. 

“Oooh does that mean you actually care whose brother I am? I mean… I don’t care whose sister you are as long as you’re not my sister or my dad’s,” he laughed.

Charles buckled in when she did and started to drive them off towards the restaurant he had mentioned before. “How’s the food in the tower? Any good?”

“I mean.. I'm treading lightly. You are my best friend’s brother, and he doesn't exactly have a fond disposition towards you. But no, I don't mind that you're his brother. And don't worry, I'm an only child.” Once they started driving, she relaxed into her seat a little, looking over at him every once in awhile. “It depends on who makes the food,” she started. “Tony keeps the place stocked with groceries, so it's really just a Catch 22.”

“Interesting. I usually cook food for myself,” he said, nodding. “Eggs and bacon. More eggs. And then just pizza. Beer. Eggs. What do you like to eat?”

That was one thing she didn't understand about Clint, and apparently it applied to Barney as well. Their jobs took them all over the world, and yet their pallets were limited to pizza and beer. Bacon, she could get behind, but come on, bacon was just amazing. Laughing softly, Natasha shook her head. “I'm partial to Russian food for obvious reasons, but French cuisine would be a close second.”

“Great! We’re going to a French restaurant so go ahead and eat your fill,” he laughed, driving along. He was actually a great driver, given how abrash his behaviour would seem like.

“Really?” Her eyebrow raised and she looked back at the road, smiling a little. “Did you just now decide that or was that originally the plan? Because French fries don't count as French. Clint already tried that one on me.”

“No, of course not,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes and smirking at her. “French. Actual French, like Creme Brulee. And other food that I cannot think of right now. It was actually the original plan, I wanted to know if you liked it or else I’d take a detour. Around this corner or something.”

He stopped in front of a restaurant, smiling to her. “Alright, we’re here.”

When he got out, he passed the key to the valet so that the car could be parked away for them. He then got them a seat for two in the lavish restaurant.

Natasha blinked, looking up at the place as she got out, turning to Barney once they were inside. “Barney, I'm in my uniform. This isn't nearly as nice as I should be dressed.” She subconsciously grabbed his arm, holding it close to her side. 

She wasn't usually one to be clingy, but she did feel out of place. Realizing how tight she was holding onto his arm, she let go a little, taking a deep breath. “This looks amazing.” Looking around, she realized that there weren't that many people around since it was two in the afternoon. 

He let her grip his arm, well aware that she must be feeling self conscious at this moment. All he could do was wear a shit-eating grin as he escorted her into the restaurant. “Who cares? We’re here to eat.”

The waitress ushered them to a table for two. The restaurant setting was dark and covered, unlike a diner that would be really bright and open. It was more intimate. The menu pretty much only had less than ten items on it but it costs a fortune.

“All right then,” she nodded, following him. It was pretty dark, but she figured that was probably better considering how she was dressed and who she was. It wasn't as if she had as much paparazzi as Tony, but as an Avenger, she still got quite a few. 

Sitting down with him, she picked up the menu and looked it over, her eyes widening. No wonder she hadn't been here before. It was expensive. 

Shit, she thought. She didn't bring nearly that much money, and she certainly didn't want to be in Barney’s debt and ask him to spot her. The assassin doubted that he or Clint would ever let her live that down. “Have you.. ever come here before?”

“Yes, of course. Once before with some clients,” he said and looked at her from the top of the menu. “Why? Do you wanna go elsewhere?”

“No, no, this is fine,” she started, her voice trailing off. “It looks amazing. What do you usually get?” She knew she could charge it to her Avengers Charge account, and she relaxed a little. 

Natasha looked up at him and just realized the smug look that he had kept on her face, and she laughed a little. “What?”

“You are actually really beautiful when you smile,” he said, smirking and then looking back to the menu. “I usually like the foie gras. And the souffle. But I want to try the Poulet today so I shall have that.”

At the compliment, Nat rolled her eyes dramatically and looked back down at the menu, smiling just slightly. “So you're not a complete idiot about food. Good to know.” Seeing a duck confit, she set the menu down, deciding that's what she was going to get, but now she had much more pressing matters to attend to. 

“So is this standard treatment for the ‘Charles Barton Fling’ package, or am I just special?”

“Usually I take my flings to cheap dinners and beers but I got paid and I am bored so here we are,” he said, setting the menu down. When the waitress came back to him, he smiled and placed his order. Then he turned back to her. “It is a date, if you’d like to call it that. I’m paying so don’t worry so much.”

Her breath hitched slightly and she looked up at him. The word ‘date’ caught her off guard. It had been a long while since she went on one of those. It wasn't as if she was opposed to going on one, she'd just prefer to know it before it happened, and honestly, it should have been obvious to her. She just chose to ignore it. What the hell was Clint going to think? It was one thing for them to sleep together. Date was a whole new can of worms. 

“All right,” she smiled as best she could, suppressing the thoughts that were currently running through her mind at one hundred miles an hour. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he said. It didn’t take long before the food was served, or maybe it did take some time but he hadn’t been talking much with her. He didn’t want to seem like he was prying or flirting beyond the limits, so keeping silent for a while is a good thing.

He seemed uncharacteristically quiet. Her eyes narrowed a little and she took a sip of her water, smiling a little when the food came. She unwrapped her utensils and set her napkin in her lap. Her head was still reeling a little as she looked up at him. She didn't know why she was so excited or happy about this, but she was. Natasha Romanov was on a date. “So… You okay?” 

“Hm? Yeah absolutely. Just thinking about work and other things. Well, that boring stuff aside. Are you alright?” he asked, smiling to her and starting to eat his food as well. “Expecting to get hollered at by any of your colleagues maybe?”

“I'm all right. Perfectly fine,” she nodded, poking at her duck. After she took a bite, she smiled. It was fantastic. She almost missed what he said. Looking up at him, Natasha scoffed, shaking her head. “I don't get yelled at. I do the yelling.”

He started to eat and let out a moan, knowing that she looked embarrassed the first time he did that so he definitely needed to do it again. This time round, in a posh restaurant. “Food’s good huh?”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek and covered her face with her hand, letting out a long sigh. “Barney..” It was the first time she had referred to him as the name Clint had so often called him but she had yet to actually say out loud. Looking up at him, her hand covered her mouth as she gave him an almost pleading look.

At that, he simply wore a boyishly mischievous grin and shrugged his shoulders so he could eat some more. He didn’t know what to feel when she calls him by that name. It was odd but it also felt right. It felt more homely than ‘Charles’. That was just a professional name after all.

“You're literally the worst,” she mumbled before pulling her hand away from her mouth and taking a bite of her food. Two could play at this game, she realized. A small smirk crept up on her lips and she reached her foot forward, gently running the tip of her boot up the inside of his calf as she calmly ate her food. 

Choking on his food when he realised she was sending her foot up his calf, he glanced around to ensure nobody was looking before wiping his mouth and taking a drink. He cleared his throat and then continued to eat. “I think I bit something spicy…”

“Oh, really? Didn't realize the French were into spicy things,” Natasha quipped, her smirk setting in place as she ran her foot back down, replacing it cooly on his inner thigh. This was one moment she was grateful for her lack of stature, able to extend her leg fully under the table, stroking his leg slowly as she ate her food, completely ‘unaware’ of what was going on underneath the table. 

He took a deep breath, continuing to eat as calmly as possible. Then when he picked up a drink to take a sip, he slipped his free hand down to grab her ankle and hold it there. “Or maybe it was just my tastebuds.”

Her face hardened and she took a deep breath, discreetly trying to pull her foot away. Her toes curled slowly and she glared down frustratedly at her food. This wasn't what she expected. Taking a deep breath, her ears started to turn slightly pink, and she gave up, eating her food in silence. 

He ate his food with one hand while the other was still under the table. By now, he was gently massaging her feet and giving her a random footrub, taking advantage of the fact that her foot was in his reach.

“Fucking Quentin Tarantino” was all she said, mumbling softly. It did feel good of course, but she wasn't going to let him know that. This wasn't exactly a conventional date anyways. The assassin wanted so badly to let out a low groan, but she held it in, closing her eyes for a second. 

“What was that?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and looking to her. “Did you say something?”

He actually enjoyed having her there with him and how beautifully annoyed she looked right now. The look of frustration gave him a sort of enjoyment he could not explain.

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek and looked up at him, her glare fixed with a mixture of frustration and bliss. She took in a shaking breath and cut off a piece of duck. “He's a movie director with a thing for feet.” 

She wanted to reach over the table and slap him, then kiss him, then punch him over and over again. It was killing her inside, and so she just continued to watch him, her finger tapping on her glass. Why was he winning? Natasha always won her games. That's what made her good at her job. 

“Ah. Him. I see. Why? Do you have a thing for feet too? I mean, I’ve got a big pair… And you know what they say about men with big feet…” he leaned over the table as if about to divulge a secret. “They have big shoes…”

“No, I don't,” she said a little too sharply, trying to sit up a little, but she couldn't. At his mentioning of his feet, her eyebrows raised. She knew where this was going, and.. well, he wouldn't really be lying. “Wait, what-” her words were cut off by her laughter. That wasn't at all what she was expecting, and his mock drama was nothing short of charming. 

He grinned and chuckled along with her, proud to have made her laugh. Charming, he knew. He really did enjoy the sight of her laughing and he had aimed to make her laugh at least once this time. Slowly, he let go of her foot and returned to eating, the mealtime was a lot less awkward by now.

Once he let go of her foot, she pulled it away, settling her bare foot on the ground, trying to move it around to find her boot that had landed somewhere under the table. Her face radiated heat as she continued to eat. Natasha knew she had been beat, but there was nothing keeping her from acting like she had won. “No more moaning at dinner. Or that's what you get.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, playing it along as he smirks to her knowingly. As he eats, he glances up at her. “By the way, you got any plans after this?”

“No. I usually go home after training unless I have a mission. But I requested the rest of the week off.” Natasha would never tell him this, but she asked the week off fully intending to be here for the rest of the time that Barney was going to be in New York. There was no way she was missing out on this opportunity, which at the time, just seemed like an interesting adventure of sorts. There was no thought in her mind that she'd end up here, on a date with him. But she didn't mind it. 

“Perfect! I thought of just stretching my legs a little before going back later so you can accompany me,” he winked at her and drank from his glass.

The early dinner ended with small talks and blatant flirtatious comments exchanged. In all honesty, he felt good to be around her. She was a challenge, an adventure that was worth all the trouble. There was just something about her that made it all amazing to him. After all, he would be gone in a few days and all that is left of him would be a memory.

“Oh will I? And what if I don't?” As she finished her meal, Natasha looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. A small smile showed on her face, and she sat back in her seat, happy to have the upper hand again. 

“No, no. I know it must have been a long time since the last but that is not how a date works,” he sighed as if explaining a formula to a student for the umpteenth time. “I asked you out for it, I will arrange for some activities and we will go through it unless you have better plans for us both to go to. Alright?”

Clearing off her plate before standing, Natasha smiled at him, shaking her head. “Right. This is a date. I guess it would've been better if I knew that before it started so I could you know, dress accordingly. Or actually try to look somewhat nice.” Nat wasn't complaining. This was nice, and it had been a while since she had been on a date. 

She quietly took his arm again as they walked, leading him back outside since leading was just her nature. “When was your last date?”

“Date? Eh… I don’t remember,” he shrugged and smiled to her. “Don’t worry about what you wear. You can wear a trash bag and still look good because that’s what good looking people do. They look good.”

“Sounds like a long time,” she mused, standing still as they waited for the valet to come back with his car. Now that they were outside, she slowly let go of his arm, letting her hand drop back by her side. At the compliment, she smiled a little, grateful. “Thank you. You're not so horrible looking yourself. Must be a Barton thing.”

“Why, thank you. My brother is not so bad either but nothing quite like me,” he told her, smiling. The valet returned and he took the keys, getting back into the car.

Getting in next to him, Natasha raised an eyebrow and watched him. Who she found more attractive was a fact she decided should stay to herself. Instead, she just smiled and sat there, connecting her phone to the Bluetooth so she could play some music. “So what's our next stop?”

“Next stop? We visit another ginger,” he said jokingly as he drove. He let her play some music on his speakers, hoping she had good taste mostly.

“What?” Her eyebrows furrowed as she started to play some Rage Against the Machine, turning to look at him. She only knew a few gingers, and from what Barney had said, it seemed like the amount of people he knew in New York was pretty limited. Tilting her head, she just sat back and waited. 

He tapped on the steering wheel, drumming along as he drove. He hummed the song softly, nodding even though his eyes kept to the road. Not long after, he parked and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Come on. Let’s take a walk.”

“All right?” Natasha unbuckled, still wishing she wasn't in uniform, and got out, closing the door behind her. Looking around, she wondered what they'd be doing. At this point, it was closer to five. Wow, had they really spent three hours together already. She laughed softly to herself and turned to Barney, walking over to him. “Where to?”

“Up front, let’s just walk,” he said, waiting for her to catch up as he walked only a few steps faster than her. He has brought her to the riverside, intending only to take a stroll and like he said before, to stretch his legs. “Tell me something… Does walking actually help you burn any calories?”

A walk seemed nice, innocent enough. It didn't take her long to catch up with him, and once she did, Natasha stood next to him, thinking. “I hadn't really thought about it. I burn calories insanely fast. Perks of an enhanced metabolism, I guess. But it makes sense. Movement.” 

“Good. Then that means we can have supper later on,” he said with a cheeky smile, simply following the track down the riverside and walking on. “What’s it like? Being a supersoldier?”

“You really plan ahead, don't you?” Natasha slowed her pace, walking in step with her best friend’s brother. What was it like to be a super soldier. That was an interesting question. There was no real definitive answer in her mind. It wasn't exactly something she chose, well, it was, but only because she had to. It was that or the death of Ivan, which, in hindsight, wouldn't have been such a horrible thing. 

“It's.. interesting. I mean, I've lived a long time. I've outlived a lot of people, but you know, unattachment is sort of in the job description. And like you said it yourself, my last date was a long time ago. Which is for the best. I think that's the hardest part, but you get used to it. But there's a lot of perks, too. I can't get sick. And there's a hell of a kind of stamina. Which, combined is great because no STDs. Plus, as you witnessed first hand, I'm pretty strong. But.. yea, I don't know. If I really wanted a normal life, it'd take a lot more than reversing the serum. So life without it wouldn't change much, just give me more opportunity for relationship, of any variation. So it's good in a way.”

He nodded, listening to her explain and glancing to her only once in awhile. It did seem interesting for him, the fact that being a supersoldier made her that way. “I guess not everybody can be perfect like Captain America,” he shrugged slightly.

“Oh god, he is not perfect.” Nat took in a short breath, not realizing how low her voice had gotten in her long monologue. Shaking her head once, she went quiet. It wasn't her place to talk bad about Steve right now. Instead, she let out a long breath, quietly looking around. The sun was beautiful, and so was the river. The reflection of the light on the ripples of water shone like tiny little diamonds, and she stopped for a second, watching them. Natasha seldom had time to leave the city except for when she was on missions, and then, she didn't have time to sightsee. “Woah.”

He brought her away and turned towards the sunset, smiling with her. “There’s the ginger,” he said, admiring the view of the sun setting from behind the city skyline. “Gorgeous, ain’t it?”

“It's beautiful,” she nodded, not looking away. “Hey, sit.” Without much of a warning, Natasha plopped onto the ground, sitting on the riverbank. She reached up and took his hand, pulling him down next to her. 

He sighed as he looked back to the sunset but then sat when she pulled him to take the spot right next to her. “You ever been here before?”

“No, you?” Once he sat down next to her, she silently rested her head on his shoulder, going quiet for a minute. The assassin slowly smiled and relaxed against him, letting out a long breath. This was nice. It was definitely a change of pace from her normal day, and she decided she liked it. If she wasn't careful, she could get used to it. 

“Yeah. Once. Alone,” he said. “Mostly I see the sunset from rooftops. Not like this. But this is better, more beautiful. And the company isn’t terrible either.”

Nat slowly smiled, leaning back against him, something inside her turning over. Suddenly, her smile froze, and she furrowed her brow, glaring at the water, almost as if she was telling her mind to stop and herself to stop feeling. This was not happening. Blinking once, she sat there quietly, inwardly battling with her freshly arising emotions. It was like it was a dam that had been up so long, and one tiny hole was poking through, and if she didn't stop it, a flood was gonna come through. 

Without a word, Natasha’s smile slowly turned from a grin to a smirk as she pushed him forward and into the lake. 

Her silence was comforting to the ignorant man. She could think about anything she wanted for as long as she stayed silent and comfortable by his side. His thoughts were soon rudely interrupted when he was suddenly pushed into the water without any warning.

Falling in with a splash, Barney disappeared under the water for a while, not resurfacing upon being thrown in. Even if he struggled, he was still beneath the water.

Natasha jumped up, laughing softly as she watched. She ran to the edge of the riverbank, waiting but staying far enough away so that he couldn't pull her in as a joke. She continued to wait, her laughter dying after a while when he never came up. Her eyebrows furrowed and she narrowed her eyes. “Barney.. this isn't funny. Come on up.” 

Ok It was probably just a joke. Classic Bartons and their sense of humor. He was just… really good at holding his breath. It was a part of military training, right? Or was that the Marines. He was Army. Looking down at her watch, she counted down a few more sentences. “Shit..” 

What the hell had she done. 

Without waiting, Natasha kicked off her boots and jumped into the water, a perfect dive as she swam down, grabbing Barney around the waist and dragging him back onto the side of the lake. Setting his head back level with his neck, she stared down at him wide eyed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck..” 

Natasha opened his mouth to make sure there wasn't anything in his throat before plugging his nose and blowing into his mouth twice, making sure the air was going in before pumping his chest. “Come.. on..”

Barney was lying on the grass patch unmoving as she dragged him out of the water. He was still when she performed the emergency procedures, pumping and forcing air into his lungs.

Then as she leaned down to blow air into his mouth again, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her to himself, kissing her.

Her eyes widened when she felt his arms wrap around her. She didn't know how scared she was until he started kissing her. Her heart was beating out of her chest, and the world seemed to be spinning. Her adrenaline was rushing more than it had in a long time. If she had hurt him, she was going to be so upset. Upset wouldn't even cover it. But now, he was okay. Natasha slowly pulled away, looking down at him, her eyes wide again, trembling softly, trying to calm herself down. “I'm- so sorry..”

“For what?” he asked, grinning up at her with his own cheeky, mischievous smile. He had no idea that she would be so scared and he could see it from her eyes. The smile faltered ever so slightly as he realises what he might have done.

Sighing, he sat up and put his arms around her wordlessly. There was nothing else that he could think of doing anyway, not when she was around. It might be hard for him to admit but he knew despite all else that her files would read about her, she was a girl trapped in a rapidly spinning world.

“Ohhhh, god,” was all she mumbled, over and over again, almost chant-like as she slipped back into her native tongue, her eyes closing. She had killed plenty of people in her lifetime. Years ago, it would have been a fact she was proud of, but now, it was something she actively tried to escape. Even today, with her job she killed people, but she convinced herself it was okay because they were evil people who deserved it. Coming to SHIELD had its cons, the growth of an actual conscience being one of them. 

But as soon as she realized she may have killed Barney, the panic did set in. It wasn't as physical or as visible as Steve’s or Tony’s, but it was there. Her eyes slowly began to sting, and she just closed her eyes, glad that he was okay, and glad that he was holding her. Nat brought her hand up to cover her mouth and silence herself while she just forced herself to calm down and stop shaking, never once shedding a tear. Inhaling sharply, she cleared her throat, mumbling from behind her hand, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, nothing is wrong,” he said, rubbing her back gently. “I’m quite alright. Can you see? I was in the army, how could I not know how to swim?”

He sighed and kept holding her, rubbing her back and nodding to himself. He knew she was deep within her own memories and her pain, but he tried his best to pull her out of it.

She nodded quickly, trying really hard to let him know that she was fine. She was always fine, and no one could know any differently. Of course he could swim. She was being stupid. But that didn't stop the images of Natasha killing a perfectly innocent, well, not evil person. Someone who was kind to her. Of her having to go and explain to Clint how she killed his brother. 

Natasha groaned softly and pulled her hands away from her face, leaning back into him and just staring at the water. “I know.”

He held on for what seemed like forever, and then coughed uncomfortably. “I might catch a cold. Can I borrow any of your big clothes? A nightgown maybe?”

“Yea, yea, of course.” She spoke quickly, acting as if nothing had happened. “Most of my big clothes are Clint's though, as long as you don't mind.” She tried to stand, but her legs still shook. Frustrated, she just took a deep breath and reached for her boots.

He got up to his feet and watched her. She seemed to be trembling, her legs looked like they would give way. “Hey,” he called out softly, reaching out to hold her hand. “It’s alright.” 

She stood, clutching her boots in one hand, and.. something else entirely in the other. Her head shot to the side, looking at where his hand intertwined with hers, and she stopped moving. This wasn't a big deal. He was fine. He didn't die. Why was she freaking out? Her breathing was mostly back to normal now, and she just looked up at him, staying quiet as she held his hand. 

Offering her a smile, he looked to her and tugged her hand. “Come on, gingerbread. Let’s get to your place and get dry.”

He continued to hold her hand steadfast as they walked to the car. It was absurd how much confidence he could exude while actually trying to woo the Black Widow, it was almost as if he would break any moment from the intense pressure.

She continued to hold his hand as they walked, slowly calming down by the time they got back to the car. Gingerbread was a new one, but now that she thought about it, she was amazed she hadn't been called that yet. Natasha reluctantly let go of his hand and looked at the nice leather seats of the car, thinking about her sopping wet uniform. “Shit.”

Turning to her when she cursed, he glanced down her form as she stood there. “What’s up?” he asks, ready to get into his own seat.

“You said this was a company car. Well won't you get in trouble if I mess up the leather?”

“The leather is already messed up,” he sighed. “Come on. Don’t worry about it. Get in. I’ll handle it later.”

He got into the car, buckling in and waiting for her patiently. He didn’t think she would worry about the leather, it wasn’t like it was his car anyway.

He didn't seem to mind that the leather might get messed up, so she got in, buckling as she did so. Her phone sat in the center console, still plugged into the auxiliary. She could see her phone screen blinking rapidly, so she reached for it, picking it up. As Natasha turned the screen to face her, she could see a stream of texts from Clint. “Seven… eight.. nine.. shit.” 

Something horrible must have happened. The redhead quickly opened her phone only to see a litter of angry and confused text messages all following one text, a picture. Of a man and a woman at a dimly lit French restaurant. Underneath it was a link to the magazine article that had already been published. Nat let out an uneasy groan. “Well that was fast.”

“That’s what she said,” he said and then chuckled, looking over to her. “What? What is it? You look spooked.”

He turned back to the road and drove along, not really caring whatever was happening anyplace else. He only cared about the fact that he had fun on this day out with Natasha.

“Yea, that's what I said last night.” Her joke lacked the usual luster they usually had and came out more flat this time. She wasn't.. upset so much at the picture, not yet anyways. Just sort of surprised. Upset is what she would get if they got bombarded on the streets, which she didn't see happening. The last time that happened, was when she was living with Tony. The press had a field day with that one.


	5. Chapter 5

-x-

“Tasha, it's going to be fine, okay? Contrary to what you might think, they don't follow me around twenty-four/seven.”

Nat had been living with Tony ever since New York happened. She couldn't go back to SHIELD, not just yet. If she did, she'd be working every day with Clint. It was nothing against him, she was just scared. What if the mind control wasn't out of his system yet. Plus, Tony needed her. It was something Pepper just couldn't seem to get through her thick head. She had no patience when it came to Tony, and that pissed Natasha off. 

‘Two weeks tops’ turned into months which turned into a year. She was happy living with Tony. And from what she could tell, he was happy she was there. The two spent a lot of their time fixing the tower that had been demolished in the Battle. Being all alone in an abandoned building leant itself to some revealing moments. The two were vulnerable to each other, and that's what allowed them to help one another. 

It took Natasha a while. She could hide her problems. Tony, while not very excited to share them, was not all that good at hiding them. In order to do so, he'd just lock himself away in his lab. Which Natasha always took as a sign that something was wrong, and she was almost always right. She cared about him so much, and he her. It was probably the most healthy relationship Natasha had ever been in. 

Of course they slept together a few times. Emotions were high and the two were the most vulnerable to each other than they had ever been with anyone else. It never really meant anything, but that didn't mean they didn't enjoy it. 

But after a few months, the two decided it was time to go outside again. Tony, until then, had most things delivered directly to the tower so neither of them had to leave. They didn't want to see the ruins and they didn't want to see the memorials. It was just a reminder of what they could have done better. But today was different. 

Tony and Natasha took the elevator downstairs, deciding they'd go get lunch. Tony of course had told her he was paying, despite her attempts to get him not to. The two walked down the street a ways and were immediately surrounded by a ton of paparazzi. Apparently an absence of the two Avengers had been greatly noticed by the press and the people, so when they popped up, one of them being Tony, the press lost it. 

There must have been ten or twelve of them, standing in the middle of the sidewalk in front of them, behind them, on the street. Natasha froze, staring directly ahead of her. Her whole life, Natasha was taught that anonymity was her best friend. She guarded her privacy with her life because her privacy was her life. 

It was too much. To her back was a coffee shop. It was her only escape. Turning into the door, she let go of Tony's arm and rushed inside, pushing past people to get to the back as she held her breath. Natasha kicked open the door to the one person bathroom and locked the door as she slid to the ground, covering her face with her hands. She didn't know why she was shaking so much, but she couldn't stop. “Fuck..”

-x-

“Hello?” he called out, looking to her as he took the seat next to her. He had seen her spacing out despite seemingly watching the tv. Obviously, her eyes were glazed and her mind was elsewhere. “Anybody home?”

He snapped his fingers between her eyes, setting the mug of hot chocolate on the table and crossing one leg over the other as he looks to her again. “What’s wrong?”

Usually, Barney would be one to leave the place of a fling. He hated to stay for more than a night but this time, he chose to sleep in Natasha’s apartment for a few days. He was comfortable with her and it seemed she was too. Just as any other man, he had bad habits too. He always had to go out on wee hours of the night in the name of business, but Natasha had to know that he was shady on his own.

Snapping in her face was a mistake, and Natasha reflexively grabbed his wrist, yanking him forward, the other hand reaching for his neck, but as soon as she realized who it was, she let go of him and set him back down on the couch. “Sorry. Don't do that. You should know better.” 

Clearing her throat, Natasha turned back to the tv, taking a deep breath. The car ride was all a bit of a blur to her. She had shown Barney the picture, and despite the fact that people were looking out for her, she let him stay at her place. Clint wasn't overly fond of the idea, but he allowed it. Not that it was his decision in the first place, but he certainly got the idea since he came over pretty much every day. “What are we watching?”

“Our manners, I guess,” he frowned as he rubs his neck. She had those random outbursts sometimes. He could only sigh and lean back. “Is this about the paps again? Come on. You know I’m going to be gone in a few days. I just want to stay someplace I am happy and comfortable. If it bothers you, I’ll go. A lot earlier, makes your life a lot easier.”

“No, don't.” It came out too short. She didn't want to think about him leaving. It had only been a few days that he had been here, but she really did enjoy being around him. It was horrible and gross and childish. She was fooling herself. Natasha knew what she felt, but she denied it. But after she thought she almost killed him, things got a lot clearer. God, if only she hadn't pushed him in that lake. “Stay as long as you need to. I don't mind.”

“You sure?” he asked again, not wanting her to feel obligated to have him stay. Then, he sighed and remembered that he had to leave later that night. “Listen, I gotta go out tonight. A few things to settle with some clients. Can you wait up for me? I don’t wanna go anywhere else after.”

“Positive,” she started, leaning back onto the couch. Staying up wouldn't be a problem. She couldn't fall asleep until she was cuffed to a bed anyways. All she'd have to do was not do that. Natasha nodded and took a deep breath. “Yea, of course. I can do that.”

“Alright. I’ll try not to be too late,” he said, smiling and poking her side. “Drink the chocolate. It’s getting cold. I’m gonna get ready.”

Natasha smiled a little, laughing softly when he poked her side. As he stood, she reached forward and took the hot chocolate, curling her fingers around the warm ceramic. She watched him leave and took a sip from the mug. Nat knew she was done for as she mumbled into the mug in perfect Russian, “well fuck..”

It was night and he was walking alone down the streets. Pacing, actually. His client was supposed to have arrived within the minutes but it had been hours. It was really late.

When the man finally came to him, Barney just wanted it over and done with. He handed the case of goods for the bag of money and he just wanted to go home

“Wait,” the man said, stopping him from leaving. “Is this a trap? Are you a cop?”

His heart skipped a beat at that, turning back and frowning. “Are you?” he snapped. Suddenly aware of his surroundings, Barney turned and studied around him. Were there people following him? Is this a trap as this client had suggested?

“Nah, man. I was just making sure,” he said, shrugging and handing the bag to his assistant. At the same time, Barney felt self-conscious. Why was he sent for this transaction alone?

Stepping back quickly, he shook his head. “I gotta go,” he said, refusing to even listen to another word that the man had to say. He simply got back into his car after throwing the bag into the passenger’s seat and drove off from there.

It was a long way from Natasha’s place, a long drive away. He knew something was wrong, something was evidently wrong. And as he drove, he caught sight of a patrol car. The sound of the sirens meant only one thing. He has to stop.

Cursing softly under his breath, he slowed down to a stop and rolled down the window. “Evening, officer. I don’t think I was going over the limit here, what seems to be the problem?”

“Pop the trunk,” one of the officers said, walking to the back of the car as another stood by the driver’s seat, not saying a word as he pointed the flashlight at Barney’s face and to the inside of the car.

“What’s in the bag?” he asked, nodding to the black bag next to the redhead.

“I’m a businessman, sir. Just finished a transaction and made some cash withdrawals,” he explained, opening the bag and freezing at the sight of what was inside.

When the trunk came up, the officer in the back pulled out his gun and aimed it at Barney while the other too had his gun now trained at him along with the flashlight. “Sir, I will need you to step out of the car and put your hands where I can see ‘em! Now!”

In the trunk of his car were a wide array of drugs in both packs and boxes, paired with weapons of war grades. He knew he was done for. He knew he had been right. It was a trap.

Raising his hands as he bought time to think, he had no idea what else there was left for him to do. And so before the officers knew it, Barney had floored the pedal and rushed past the officers. That befittingly earned a search put up for him, complete with his description. He knew he had nowhere else to go.

Losing the patrol car just a few blocks back, Barney had to do an emergency parking that was fascinatingly perfect. His car parked itself in between two other parked cars by the roadside and he ducked as he killed the engine in time before the police drives by him.

He turned to the drugs and weapons in the bag, not knowing what he had to do next. And so he rushed back with the bag to Natasha’s home.

It was later than Natasha expected him to get home, and she was starting to get worried. But she knew these things could take a while, so she told herself it was okay. But the longer he was gone, the more worried she got. She turned and looked at the clock. He had left around ten and now it was past midnight. 

Natasha reluctantly pulled out her phone and dialed Barney’s number. “Come on…”

He knocked on the window hurriedly. It was too risky to get through the door. It would be an ambush if he got stuck by the door and she would be taken with him. He did not want that.

Hearing the knocking on the glass, she whipped around, grabbing one of her hidden guns and running to the window, only to see that it was Barney. She let out a long breath, relieved as she opened the window and helped him inside. “What the hell happened?”

“Long story,” he said, forcing past her with much difficulty as he brought the bag inside. He dropped it aside and sighed, sitting on the couch. “It seems like I may not be here for very long. I’m on the wanted list.”


	6. Chapter 6

She stared at him wide eyed as he walked in with the giant bag. The words ‘wanted list’ caught her attention, and she froze, slamming the window shut. Nat immediately went into autopilot, closing all the windows and turning off all the lights. She hardly noticed him saying he was going to be here longer. Grabbing the first aid kit and plopping in front of him, checking him over for injuries. “Are you okay?”

He would have done exactly the same thing had it been his home. Shut the lights, kill all contact. It was basically everything in his entire life. When she fussed over him, he just shook his head. “I’m fine…” he said, glancing to the bag. “I walked into a trap. Don’t touch it. I don’t want your prints on it.”

“We take your prints off it then,” she nodded, setting the kit aside. “It's fabric. It won't be that hard.”

“The cops have my description. I got caught by the patrol earlier and they found this,” he said, opening the bag and showing her the contents. “More in the trunk of the car. How could I have missed it? I don’t usually deal with transactions alone. How could I be so dumb…”

“Barney…” her face fell as she looked at the inside of the bag and listened to his story. It just got worse from there. Nat started thinking at a hundred miles an hour. She knew people that could help him. She could always say he was working with her and was trying to bust something up. “Fuck.. For now- God, okay. I have a few ideas.”

“How did they know?” he wondered softly, thinking to himself even as she spoke. “It doesn’t make sense…”

Sighing, he rubbed his face in exasperation and ran his fingers through his hair. He had to think of a way out or everything he worked for would just go to waste.

“What exactly happened?” Everything was quiet in her apartment. All the doors were locked and every light was off. No one would be getting in tonight. She immediately thought of calling Clint. He might not be happy, but he’d probably know best what to do. “Retrace your steps.”

“They made me deal personally. Exchange the goods for money. Personally. I don’t usually do that,” he said. “They sent me here for that. Why would they do that?”

He thought about it and then looked back to her. “Does SHIELD know?” he asked suddenly. “Do they know that I am here, who I am really?”

Her brows furrowed, and she shook her head. She definitely hadn't told SHIELD. And she doubted Clint did. He wouldn't gain anything from that. “No, the only people that know about you are me and Clint- oh…” 

It hit her. When she first met him and got her phone back. What did she do? She ran him through SHIELD’s facial recognition system. 

“I.. Shit.”

He trusted her. For some reason, he just trusted her blindly. He knew she would not do anything to screw him up, but his heart skipped a beat when she hesitated her answer.

“What is it?” he asked, eyes growing wide and holding his breath to hear her answer.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about it. It was just.. instinct. My phone. Whenever someone turns it on, it takes a picture with the front facing camera. That's why I don't have a lock on it. People know I will know who took it. I ran your picture through SHIELD’s facial recognition database. That's how I knew who you were. It was before I got to know you. I didn't trust you like I do now.”

Those last few words came out too fast and without her even thinking about it at all. She trusted him. Even though Clint had told her not to and she promised that she wouldn't, she trusted Barney, and it turned out she was the one not to be trusted. “I fucked up.”

Sighing when he hears her explain what had happened, he pressed the bridge of his nose, trying to think calmly and rationally through this all. “Shit…”

There had to be a lapse somewhere. Did her actions kickstart a sort of search for him? Was that how they all knew?

“I’m done for. I should go. If any of those mafias find out I’m here,” he shook his head and closed the bag, his mind racing as did his heart. “I need to find a way out of here. If Egghead finds out I’m here, everyone’s lives will be in danger.”

“It'll be okay,” she shook her head, looking up at him. She really did need to call Clint. It was their best option. Natasha let out a long breath and just rubbed her face. “I can take care of myself, all right? But you're not going off on your own. That's just a dumbass decision.”

“I know, but it’s better if I do. I can’t take anyone with me. That is the basic rule,” he said. “i’m not a saint, Natasha. I’m a criminal. I’m being chased down by both criminals and the police now. Hell, if I can bet it, SHIELD would be sending out bounty hunters for me too. Go ahead, pick up your phone and ask. Ask anyone from your team. Who’s taken up the job offer? Maybe you should if it’s still open. That’s the least I can do.”

“Barney, stop.” Her voice came out sharper than she meant it, but she stopped to think. Thor wouldn't be interested. Bruce wasn't exactly field material. Tony had seen her with Barney already. She was surprised she hadn't gotten a call from him already. Hell, now that she had thought about it, anyone who looked at the news could have seen the two of them together. 

Nat let out a long breath and just thought, watching him as she did so. “If I took the job, I’d have to bring you in. But.. that's better than Steve doing it. Or Tony. Or Clint even. I can.. talk them into getting you out. Fury trusts me. But you'd have to work for SHIELD.”

He let out a laugh at that. “Are you seriously offering me a job right now?” he looked at her incredulously, as if her suggestion was for him to put on a spacesuit and fly off into space for sanctuary. “Natasha. There is a reason why I distanced myself from people. Why Clint Barton never told you about Barney Barton. There is a reason why we are estranged. The truth is, he’s the good guy. And I am the bad brother. This is what I do. If you keep recruiting criminals instead of putting them behind bars, you wouldn’t be a security department anymore. You’d be a free range prison.”

He reached out for her hand and looked right at her. “Listen… I know what I’m doing. Clint must not know about this. Whatever happens, he has to stay out of this. I don’t care what happens to me but if the guys who are after me finds out about him… Let’s just say I don’t want to be liability.”

Her jaw set as she watched him, shaking her head. She looked down as he took her hand, reluctantly looking back up at him. Natasha didn't understand why he couldn't understand this. It seemed like a simple fix to her. “What's so wrong about hiring criminals?” Her eyebrow raised almost challengingly as she watched him, implying that he very carefully choose his next words. “I'm going to help you. I got you into this. You're not a liability, Barney.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “You don’t understand. You can’t help me,” he said softly. “Do me a favor. Just one. Run a check on me again. Tell me I’m wrong.”

 

“You're wrong.” She pulled her phone back out and ran another search. Multiple hits popped up, none of which looked good. “Okay, internationally wanted. But.. we can work around that. I can help you. Don't discount me. And don't leave. You're gonna get caught.”

He stayed silent there as she confirmed that he was getting multiple hits by now. Suddenly even SHIELD cared about a petty thief like him. “i have to hide this someplace safe,” he said, picking up the bag and placing it on his lap.

“Why not just get rid of it? If it's money you're worried about, I can replace it.” God, if Clint could hear her right now… Natasha searched the back of her head and stared at the bag. Why was she so eager to help him? It wasn't like he was innocent. But could she really throw that stone? Sighing, she went quiet, thinking. “I have an old storage unit that I haven't used in a while.”

“It’s evidence. It has to stay,” he said softly, almost as if treading carefully on his choice of words. “An old storage is fine. At least you will know where it is, if anything happens to me.”

Nat closed her eyes for a second, breathing out as she thought. She shook her head at ‘if anything happens to me.’ “Nothing is going to happen, okay? And I'm serious about you coming to work for SHIELD. Even if it's a last resort. You're going to do it. Okay? Don't make me arrest you.”

“There are circumstances in which puts in a very difficult spot, Natasha. I’d take your offer, but I doubt it changes anything,” he sighed and looked to the bag again.

Upon some time of thinking, he finally relented. “I need to talk to Clint.”

“Thank god. I didn't want to have to be the one to tell you.” Her face fell a little, a sympathetic frown as she watched him. From what little she had observed, she knew how big of a deal it was for him to admit that. She nodded once and put her hand on his arm. “I can convince them if I need to.”

He felt like he wanted to laugh, or did he want to cry. He just didn’t know how to explain it to her. “Is it possible to get Clint here tonight? As soon as possible. Don’t tell him I’m here. I need to tell him something.”

“He knows you're staying here. And he knows when I'm lying. But I won't bring it up, no.” Pulling out her phone, she shot Clint a quick text telling him to come over. The assassin set her phone back down and turned to Barney. It was obvious that he was conflicted right now. She really did want to help, but she didn't know how. The only thing she could think of was something he did for her when she felt that everything was spinning out of control. Natasha seldom ever initiated them, but she figured it couldn't be that hard. Reaching forward, Nat wrapped her arms around Barney and just held him. “It's going to be okay, yea? You're talking to someone who's got about forty death penalties globally. And I'm not dead yet, am I?”

Letting out a soft laugh as she hugged him, he wrapped his arms back around her and afforded a small smile. “No. No, you are not,” he said. “Then again, you are a super soldier.”

“I can still get shot and be killed. Or have my head chopped off. Or be gutted. Bled out. I can still die.” Natasha slowly relaxed as she held him. It felt good, and she was glad when he laughed. She made the mistake of getting lost in thought for a second, and once she realized it, Natasha pulled away, holding him by the shoulders and looking him in the eye. “You're going to be fine.”

Surprised when she grabbed him by the shoulders, he tilted his head and nodded. “Come on. You’re getting too worried about me now. You have to remember,” he held her hand and looked to her in the eyes. “I am not important.”

Natasha huffed shortly and shook her head, trying to convince him she wasn't ‘too worried.’ “You’re my.. best friend’s brother. And it's my fault that you're on a list now. And don't give me that bullshit about you not being important. Okay? That's not true.”

For some reason, hearing her confirm that the reason why she took a liking to him was because he was Clint’s brother made his heart sink to his stomach. He was not here to catch feelings, so why did he care?

He nodded and smiled to her. “You know what? I’d kill for some bacon right now. Do you have any?”

Seeing his face fall, Nat paused, tilting her head. Had she said something? But as soon as she could open her mouth to ask, he was already onto another subject. She decided she'd ask him later. “Of course,” she said, letting her hand fall from his shoulder down his arm and to his hand where she gently pulled it away. “I always keep bacon in the apartment.”

“Good. Bacon’s a lifesaver,” he said with a grin. He loved bacon just as anybody else would. “Do you have beer too?”

“Maybe one or two bottles. I usually keep stocked up on vodka and whiskey though.” She slowly stood, making her way to the kitchen. Bacon at one in the morning. Why not? 

“If you could spare me some, I’d like that,” he sighed, stretching slightly and then looking back to her. “Don’t touch the bag. I’ll put this here.”

Natasha said nothing and simply started drying the bacon. She didn't know what she was going to do. She knew she had to help him, but she didn't know how. Multiple ideas ran through her mind. None of which were ones that Barney would like. As her mind wandered, Natasha paid less and less attention to what she was doing until a giant grease splatter came back and burnt her hand. “Shit- ow..”

He had gotten up and headed off to the bathroom to wash his face. He needed to refresh himself or he would spiral down into madness. When he heard the yelp, he quickly headed to her. “Are you alright?”

“Yea, yea, I'm fine,” Natasha mused absentmindedly. Her mind was still rocketing around, trying to think of the best possible ideas. All the ones she had would work but they would not be ones that he liked. “It'll heal.” She stuffed her hand by her side and held it there, stifling the pain.

“I’ll settle this. Go fix that,” he said, nudging her away so she stopped fussing over the bacon. He helped to fry the bacon afterwards and tossed them on the plate. “Shit.”

Hurriedly, he walked past her as he remembers something. He pulled the bag out and started to rummage it. He found a tiny chip inside it, frowning. “I should go. I can’t kill this here. They’ll know. I should toss this out somehow. Drop it somewhere else.”

Nat had already left the kitchen, knowing what she was going to do, but as soon as she turned into the living room, taking a few steps towards what she was going to do, she stopped. Dammit. Letting out a sharp sigh she looked up at him. “Be careful, all right? And come straight back here. What is that?”

“A tracker,” he said, pocketing it in his jacket and putting it on. “I’ll just go out and come back. Leave the window open.”

He started to walk towards the window, looking around and then leaving. It didn’t take long before he actually disappeared from sight.

“Barney, wait- Dammit!” As she watched him disappear outside her window, Natasha looked around. This could be her chance. She didn't know how long he was going to be gone, but this did buy her some time. Grabbing the bag, Natasha ran into the bathroom and quickly began removing all traces of him from the evidence, not caring about her prints that now covered the bag. To better solidify her case, Natasha pulled out a hair and dropped it inside. 

She wasn't trying to get herself caught, but from what it sounded like Barney was saying, it didn't matter too much if he got caught. He'd prefer not to, but it didn't matter. And this was her insurance that he wouldn't do anything stupid. Well, if he cared about her at all. Which was a gamble. Running back into the living room, Natasha looked at her watch. That was fifteen minutes. She could either leave it around and hope he didn't notice or she could hide it and be the only one who knew where it was. 

Natasha clutched the bag tightly and walked to the window, hopping out. She left the window open so he could get back in in the event that he got home before she did. He wouldn't be happy, but it wasn't like he wouldn't notice the bag being gone even if she did get back before him. With her feet finally on the ground, Natasha got into her car, throwing the bag inside next to her as she started it.


	7. Chapter 7

Barney had run off quickly. He has always been a runner. He made his way around buildings, going here and there, in and out of buildings. Finally, he found a passing night cyclist and bumped into him. He apologised a few times, slipping the tracker on him and hoping it would take it away from here. He smirked at that and returned to Natasha’s home, ready to just wait it out for Clint to come by, hopefully early.

Natasha was long gone by the time Barney got back. She had a few places she hid things including a few illegal weapons of her own. Parking behind the storage unit, Natasha unlocked the door and stuffed it inside, locking it back up. As she got back in the car, she decided she should do a few more laps around the street in her car, adding a few extra miles on so Barney couldn't try to figure out how far she had gone and limit the area where the bag could be. She knew he was smarter than she realized. Once she was sufficiently happy with her mileage, Natasha turned back towards her apartment and parked in her spot, running back to the window where she climbed up. 

Seated in the middle of the living room, Barney looked enraged. He was clutching the armrests as he waited anxiously for Natasha to return. He was not happy, obviously.

“Where’s the bag?” he asked.

Shit. Natasha could feel her stomach drop as she set foot inside, closing the window behind her. She wasn't going to tell him. She knew that. But that wasn't going to make this any easier. Turning back towards him, Natasha walked into the living room, stopping in her tracks when she saw him. She hadn't ever seen him angry before. Granted, there were a lot of things about Barney that she hadn't seen before, but it was still terrifying. That must be where Clint got it from. “Safe. And clean. Well of your DNA.”

“Where is it?” he asked again, looking to her. His gaze was hard and unwavering. He had to know. “I need to know where it is. I have to be the one who puts it wherever safe is. My prints should be the only one on it. I thought we had that clear.”

“We were perfectly clear. I just didn't agree. I'm not telling you, so you might as well drop it.” Thankfully he was still sitting. She stood, a few yards away from him and just watched. Natasha couldn't ever really remember getting scolded by her parents, but she imagined this is what it felt like. 

“Why would you do that? I never got to properly check that bag! What if it was bugged with more chips? You’ll be leading them right to your safe place!” he said, frustrated by how stubborn she was at the moment. “I told you. I’ll handle it myself. Just tell me where it is at least. I won’t take it back, I just have to know where to get it when the time comes.”

“No. I checked it. I'm not stupid. And I'm not telling you.” She purposefully avoided his ‘why would you do that’ question, not quite sure how she would even answer it. Instead she stood there, running a hand through her hair as she stayed in front of him. “Look, this way you can't do anything stupid. You have to try and get out of this one.”

“I’m trying. I just don’t know what I have to do now,” he sighed, burying his face in his hands as he grumbled to himself. “If I get caught and I don’t know where the bag is… I’m good as dead.”

“Are you just saying that so I'll give you the bag?” Her jaw set in a hard line as she watched him. The whole reason she did this was to keep him safe. But she wasn't about to let him lie his way out of this just to get the bag back so he could do something stupid. 

“No. Part of it but not entirely,” he sighed. “So… What’s your next plan?”

He looked up to her. There was no way to find out where the bag was and there was no way she would tell him from the looks of it. He might as well play this along. 

Natasha really hadn't thought too far ahead. She just knew she needed to keep him from going off. Seeing that he didn't look too angry anymore, Natasha slowly sat down on the couch, not taking her eyes off of him. “One, you either let me arrest you myself then get SHIELD to drop the charges. Two, you come work for SHIELD. Three, you trust that I have the bag in good hiding and you go on living your life, knowing that the cops don't actually have any proof of what happened other than what one police man saw. Courts need two witnesses in most cases. I can say you were here with me all night. That's one against one.” 

As she finished speaking, Natasha leaned forward and looked at Barney intently. “I really, really want to help you. But you have to tell me everything in order for me to do that.”

“There were two of them,” he sighed and scratched the scruff that had started to grow under his chin. “There were two officers. But that’s not the point. I can’t go to SHIELD. I have to finish what I started.”

“What did you start?” She barely let him finish, eager to know how to help him. It didn't make any sense to her why working at SHIELD wouldn't work. He was leaving something out. It seemed like a simple solution to her. “What are you leaving out?”

He felt conflicted. He looked conflicted. He was conflicted. Sighing softly, he had to think about how to settle this. “It’s Egghead. I started out dealing with weapons and drugs and whatnots. He just… He wants me to join him. But when I rejected him, it must have felt like I knew too much. So he’s sent people to hunt me down. I thought I was doing pretty well for a while now…”

Natasha stayed quiet for a second, watching him. He was telling the truth, but she couldn't tell if that was the whole truth. Her eyes studied him as she waited, thinking of what to do. “Do you think he's the one who set you up?”

“I know he is,” he told her confidently, finally looking up to meet her eyes. “He has connections everywhere. Even cops. I’m sorry but if he has connections even in SHIELD, then your plan would just be escorting me to my death.”

Her pride twinged a little bit at that last quip about SHIELD. She took a good bit of pride in the organization. But Natasha really took pride in anyone she worked for. It was just her nature. Shaking her head, she sighed and took a deep breath. “Then we go after him. I'm sure if he's as bad as you say, the Avengers would be glad to take him down.”

“That’s why I need to talk to Clint. I’m not even sure he wants to listen anymore,” he sighed and looked away. “Whatever you do, I sincerely hope you do not try to take the blame for me. I know what I’m doing. You have to trust me on this.”

“I do trust you. But I'm also not going to let you take the fall for this, okay? It's not your fault some asshole set you up.” Natasha tilted her head and let out a short breath, rubbing her mouth as she thought. If it came down to it, Natasha knew she'd do whatever it took to help him. Maybe it was her trying to wipe her ledger. Maybe it was that she knew he wasn't really as bad as he made himself out to be. She couldn't let him die. “You're gonna be fine.”

He would fight her on that, but he knew better than to try. So he sat there and nodded, slapping his knees before getting up to the kitchen to get the bacon he had asked for earlier. Bacon makes everything better. It always does. He chewed angrily as he thought of how good this day was going until he had to do business. The night could not stretch longer.

“Is Clint even coming?” he asked finally.

She watched as he stood, sitting back on the couch and waiting. Clint would probably be here soon. And when he was, she'd need to clear out. That wasn't going to be a pretty scene. “Yea, probably.”

“Great. Lookin’ forward to it,” he quipped, turning and getting a drink as well.

“Make me something.” Natasha tried to smile, trying not to show how worried she was. Looking at her phone, she saw a text from Clint saying he wasn't available until the next day. She sighed softly and rubbed her face. 

“Yeah, alright. I’ll make something,” he said absentmindedly as he started making sandwiches for the both of them. He didn’t really know what else he could do anyway.

As she turned around to look at him, Natasha raised an eyebrow at the sand which. He must be really out of it. She sighed and got up, walking into the kitchen. Placing her hand gently on his back, she stood next to him. “I meant a drink, but I'm sure you make a mean sandwich too.”

“Oh.” he said, looking at the sandwich and then turning to her. “I need to get drunk. Is Clint on his way? Because if not, I’m gonna need your vodka.”

“He said he couldn't get here until tomorrow,” she frowned, nodding to the giant bottle of vodka. She had another unopened one, but she doubted she'd need it. There was no way he could get through the whole thing. “Just be careful and don't get alcohol poisoning. You don't need to go to the hospital.” After some thought, she tilted her head to the side. “You know what might get your mind off things? A drinking game.”

“A drinking game sounds good, actually at this point anything you suggest would sound good to me,” he admits, sighing and then grabbing the bottle and the plate of sandwiches. “Hit me with it.”

Natasha smiled and reached over, grabbing the bottle and a few shot glasses. “Bring the sandwiches to the living room.” She brought the glasses and the bottle of vodka into the living room, sitting at her spot on the couch, smiling a little because she knows she can't get drunk. 

Walking over with the food, he headed to the couch and sat down. He smiled to her tiredly. “Alright. So how do we play?”

“How about ‘never have I ever?’ That'd be interesting considering the company.” She reached forward and poured two shots apiece, sliding two over to him. “If I say something that I haven't done that you have done, you have to drink.”

“So I drink when I have done something? Got it, let’s start with me then,” he started to pour out the shots, lining them up and then grinning to her. “Never have I ever had a romantic relationship that lasts more than three months with the same person.”

“Seriously? Three months?” Her eyebrows furrowed as she counted in her head. Remembering Alexei then James she shrugged and downed a shot. “All right then. Never have I ever said ‘I love you’ to someone.” 

“Never,” he laughed smugly and gave her a shit-eating grin. “Feels like you would have. Have you? Hm?”

“You think I would have?” She smiled, watching him as she picked up herself next glass, holding it close to her lips without actually drinking it. “And why's that?”

“I don’t know. You give me the vibes of… someone who falls in love real hard,” he said, smiling to her. “And you would have said it at least once. On a mission or something. Or when you’re drunk. Oh shit. Wait. I think I might have.”

Quickly, he picked up a shot and knocked it back. “Once. I got so high and I saw a dandelion.”

Natasha smiled widely, a smirk playing on her lips as she set the shot down without drinking it. Instead she filled the three empty glasses and shrugged, trying not to laugh at his dorkiness. “Never those exact words, no. Not in English anyways.” 

He winced at the aftertaste and then shrugged. “We have to step up the game. I’m not getting drunk quick enough,” he said. “Never have I ever fallen madly in love that I’d consider marriage.”

“Ngh…,” she groaned. “Fuck you.” With that, Natasha reached forward and grabbed her glass, downing it. She couldn't help laughing a little as she shrugged, looking up at him expecting him to be surprised. But this was the man who just said he saw her as one to fall in love. Hard. 

Well, he wasn't wrong. 

“Never have I ever had sex in an elevator.” She tried to change the subject as quickly as possible. 

He knew she could tell that he was just admiring her even as she takes her shots. There was something about how human she was, despite who she was, that made him smile at the thought of her.

When she gave the next line, he rolled his eyes dramatically and picked up a shot glass. “Really? You’ve never done it? We should do it sometime. The Avengers’ tower is a really tall one.”

He winked at her and knocked back the drink, shaking his head at the taste. “Alright. Uhh… Never have I ever dived out of a ship with any kind of equipment. Does that make sense?”

“Haven't found anyone that would want to,” Natasha smiled, taking a deep breath. At his recommendation to do so, she laughed, turning slightly red. She tapped her finger on the shot glass, thinking. One specific event came to mind and she drank the shot, smiling. “Oops. Yea, not really smart, but my husband was crashing a plane, and I needed to get out, so.. Okay, your turn. Never have I ever been banned from any public place.”

“Now that is unfair. Listen, you gotta drink too. You are practically on the blacklist of several nations,” he complained as he picked up a shot and drinks it. Slowly, he could feel the alcohol getting to him already. As he sets down the glass, he refilled the empty ones and then grabbed a sandwich, finishing it in three big bites. “Never have I ever… uh… Worn a garter belt. Hah! Gotcha!”

“Okay, fine.” Natasha smirked as she knocked back both glasses in a row, barely phased. That's when she figured out her next question. As she refilled her glasses, she turned and looked at him. “Never… have I ever gotten drunk.”

He looked taken aback by that. How does a girl not get drunk? “What, are you serious? Are you like Amazoni- ohhhhh… You’re a supersoldier! Yeah that makes sense. Damn, then I am the only one getting drunk, fine.”

He took down another shot and thought about the question. “I uh… Never have I ever… hm… had my hair dyed.”

“It's a blessing and a curse,” she smiled, filling up his glass. At his next challenge, Natasha pursed her lips, nodding. She grabbed her drink and knocked it back, relishing the familiar burn. “Touché. All right then. Never have I ever paid someone for sex.”

“Okay. I am offended? I don’t know why?” he frowned and stared at her but then just took a drink. “Part of the job, alright. You gotta hire girls. Alright. So… Never have I ever… Loaded bullets into the wrong gun.”

His eyes glazed over for a moment, thinking about it and continuing suddenly. “But I have… put bullets into the wrong guys…”

Natasha smiled as she watched him, glad to have caught him. As he continued to talk, she filled up his glass, her own two remaining untouched. At his question, she scoffed, shaking her head. “Never-” Her eyes stopped and she looked at him. She knew he was a thief, but a murderer too? That one hadn't occurred to her, and for some reason the fact was very sobering. “I… never have I ever..’Robin Hood-ed’ an arrow.”

“Robin what? What does that mean?” he asked, tilting his head at her and frowning. The alcohol was making him lose his sense.

She could tell he was getting drunk very fast, and she smiled, leaning over and resting against his side. He didn't get nearly this drunk the first night when they had the wine. Natasha slowly relaxed, resting her head on his shoulder. “It means you   
shot an arrow and split another arrow down the shaft with the one you shot.”

“Ohhhh…. No. Never. But I have shot through the same hole over and again, does that count?” he asked.

“Nope,” she smiled then leaned over, whispering in his ear. “Clint’s done it before.”

He heard her whisper that and narrowed his eyes. “Big deal. I’ve hit bullseye on a dart board for twenty shots before. Blindfolded.”

“Holy shit, really?” Her head picked itself up a little as she looked at him, very, very surprised by that. She studied his face to see if he was lying, but it was impossible to tell with how drunk he was. “That's.. insane. But that's not skill if you can't see them. That's gotta be luck.”

“No, I just memorise where the dartboard is located, see it in my mind and calculate,” he said. “Won big, got into a fight afterwards. I was so drunk, I think I lost all my money too. Those bastards cheated.”

Natasha couldn't help smiling a little as he told his story. He was definitely a dork, and it seemed even more so when he was drunk. She rested her head back on his neck and closed her eyes momentarily. “That's really impressive, Barney.”

He put his arm around her, leaning back and knocking back a drink for no reason. “Never have I ever… Been told that I look hideous.”

“Are you kidding me? Look at who you're talking to, dork.” Nat hesitantly nuzzled into his side, letting his arm wrap around her. It felt nice. Her body suddenly felt a little lighter, and she just smiled, staying put there. 

“You’re right. You’re gorgeous,” he said, resting his head on her shoulder. He was crazy. What was he even doing? He was canoodling with THE Black Widow, and he really didn’t seem to be fazed by it. Maybe he was insane, but he loved how down-to-earth and human she was, truthfully. “Your turn.”

Since he couldn't see her, she didn't try to hide the blush. Instead, she smiled and went quiet for a second. The assassin got lost in her thoughts for a bit as she relaxed into him. She almost missed his question but then she blinked and took a deep breath. “Never have I ever… hm… never have I ever spooned a red headed assassin.”

“Did we ever spoon before?” he asked, looking to her. “We should. We really should. Maybe tonight.”

He picked up a shot glass and knocked it back, grinning. He was getting tipsy. “Hey. Can you do a handstand? I bet I can do it longer than you.”

“Promise?” Natasha opened her eyes and let out a long, happy breath, trying not to think of the shit that had happened tonight. Barney seemed to have forgotten which made her happy. She laughed when he mentioned a handstand. “Yes, I can. And I'm sure you can do one too, but not right now. You're hammered.”

“No I’m not,” he said and then rubbed his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. I am so hammered. We should spoon. And then tomorrow do the handstand. Wait, I need to drink some more. Still too sober.”

“Sounds good. Wanna do it here or in the- oh, all right. You can have the bottle. Just don't die,” she laughed, drinking her last shot. 

“Why? You gon’ miss me?” he asked with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at her and then taking the bottle. He took a swig and sighed. “Can we go inside?”

“Since you're drunk, yes, I would miss you. And Barney, we’re already inside. You're just an idiot.” She turned and watched him as he drank from her bottle. He wouldn't die. They were gonna get him out of this. Why would she even think about that? “We can use my bed.”

“Oh?” he looked around and then nodded, as if just remembering it. “Well, it’s really warm. And bed, please. I’m gonna wake up with a headache the size of Thor’s nuts.”

Natasha couldn't help laughing a little as she listened to him. She didn't quite understand why Clint didn't like him. He always went on and on about how much of an asshole Barney was, but she didn't see it. He made her happy, at least for the last few days. “My bed is nice and comfortable. And I can shut the blinds. Think you can walk?”

“Yup,” he nodded and got up, swaying a little but relatively making his way well to the bedroom. When he got to the bed, he gave her a thumbs up. “Mission accomplished.”

Nat carefully followed him to her room, careful to make sure he didn't fall. As soon as he was in the bed, she closed the door and walked over to the window, shutting the blinds. Thank god he was drunk. She loved cuddling, but she'd never tell anyone. Clint knew, but that was about it. Hopefully Barney wouldn't remember. Before getting into bed, Natasha grabbed her handcuffs and hopped into bed next to him, cuffing her wrist to the foot of the bed. “Good job.”

He snuggled in and heard the sound of the cuffs, so he looked up at it and sniffled. “Must it be a handcuff?” he asked softly, his drunk mind going curious by the second.

“They help me sleep,” she mumbled absentmindedly as she helped him wrap his arms around her. Natasha decided she'd explain it in the morning if he remembered. She knew she was treading on dangerous territory, letting him hold her like this. She was going to get attached to him. Maybe she already was. Pushing that thought to the back of her mind, she simply held onto him. 

All he replied with were mumbles as he snuggled in, spooning her and falling asleep. He had been hit by the alcohol and obviously, from the fatigue of running from everyone and everything. He didn’t even remember how his day went from 100 to 0 within hours that day. All he knew was how he just needed to sleep.

As soon as she could tell he was asleep, she smiled and closed her eyes. Her mind quieted and she listened to the slow breathing of the man behind her. This was bad, and she knew it, but Natasha didn't care anymore. She was going to help Barney, and then she was going to figure out how to keep him in New York. But first, she was going to sleep. And with that, the assassin slowly drifted off to bed, her fingers on her free hand slowly wrapping around his.


	8. Chapter 8

Seated at the dining table, staring at the glass of water in front of him was Barney Barton. What kind of mess has he gotten into right now? He was wanted, that was nothing new. But what if he gets caught? What if he does not make it out of this in one piece? 

There was just so much going through his mind, he didn’t know what he was going to do next.

Usually any small movement would wake Natasha up. She was an incredibly light sleeper. But that night had been the best sleep she had gotten in years and she didn't wake up when Barney did. Her body must have wanted to keep sleeping. As soon as she woke up, the assassin turned over, tugging on the cuffs. He was gone.

Her eyebrows raised and she quickly undid the cuffs, sitting up. Natasha rubbed her face and dragged herself out of bed, turning down the hall towards her living room which functioned as an open dining room. Seeing him there, she leaned against the hall wall and watched him quietly. 

His mere actions spoke measures of the type of person that he was. His every movement reflected what was truly seeded inside his mind. He looked at his hands for a moment, as if examining his palm and then running his fingers through his hair. He was exasperated and he was waiting on his brother. Again.

He was waiting on Clint to do something that mostly would make or break his life and Clint was doing anything but hurry. Taking his own sweet time, letting things happen until the very last minute. Really, after decades, what did Barney expect from his brother anyway? A change that was never going to happen. That’s what.

“He's probably asleep,” she said quietly, not really giving any warning as to her presence. It was unlike Clint to show so little care to something that could potentially end horribly. What the hell happened between the two of them? Natasha sighed and walked over, sitting next to him. “I'm sorry.”

He only gave a small glance over his shoulder, nodding to her statement. He knew she was trying to make light of the situation in the best of ways. As she sits next to him, he smiles to her.

“Yeah. He… sleeps in a lot,” he said, trying to understand why Clint was late again. He just wanted to know why his brother was not coming quickly as he could.

If anything, this made Natasha angry. Clint was important to her. She'd do anything for him, and she had time and time again. But he couldn't show up to her apartment? She let out a short breath and just sat there, staring at the table in front of them. “Did you try calling him?”

“I don’t have his number. The last time I saw him, we were still teenagers,” he chuckled softly. “It was really that long ago.”

“Trust me,” she sighed, “I know.” It wasn't often that Clint talked about Barney, but when he did, it was in very fine detail. He'd get fixated on things that really bothered and not let them go. Barney was one of them. She had heard plenty of stories of the older Barton brother. It was part of what made her so surprised that this is what he was actually like. It was a far cry from the description Clint gave. 

“Oh. He tells you about me, must be annoying. He probably tells me you the terrible things about me,” he said and took a sip of his water. “Ugh… My head is killing me.”

Hangover-free Natasha silently reached forward, taking his hand in hers and just sat there, gently stroking his knuckles with her own. She wasn't great at comforting, but she thought that might help. “I mean…” The majority of the things Clint told her about Barney were bad, but he'd always end his stories with some quip about how they were still family. She could never really tell if he was being sincere or sarcastic, so she left it there. “What he didn't say but was always there in between the lines was that you took care of him. Yes, maybe it didn't come across the best to him, but you two were all each other had. Circumstances shouldn't change that.”

“Plenty of things have changed over the years. We cut ties that day at the bus stop, everything’s changed right there,” he said and shook his head at the thought. “I mean… He should at least listen right? For like… the last time?”

“The last time? What do you mean by that?” Her eyebrows raised and she took a deep breath, holding his hand a little tighter. “You're not ‘settling your affairs.’ You're going to get out of this.”

He fell silent at her questions and her insistence that he should not go out to finish his job. She would not understand and he could not exactly tell her his predicament either. All he could do now is to wait for Clint to come.

“Do you think he will listen?” he asked, avoiding her questions entirely.

“Barney.”

“You know what, I don’t care,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “He can come if he wants to. And then I’m heading out. I need to do something.”

“Barney, you're not going to die. Stop. Okay?” Natasha turned and looked at him, forcing him to look at her. She was worried about him, and hopefully he knew that. Not that it would change anything. “What do you have to do?”

“I need to meet someone,” he said, drawing away from her finally and looking anywhere but to meet her eyes. “Can I borrow your shower?”

Her jaw slowly clenched as she watched him. She knew he was avoiding her and it was killing her. She didn't know how to help him, but she knew she needed to. Natasha stood, grabbing him by the arm and turning her to look at him. “Barney.”

Turning to look at her finally when she grabbed, he met her eyes unflinchingly. He seemed unfazed and unafraid of whatever she had to say.

“What? You’re gonna imprison me here until SHIELD comes to take me away? And then maybe, just maybe, there is a small little chance that they’d hire me instead of sending me into the gallows?”

“No. But you're not thinking. And I know you don't have your best interests in mind. You need to. Clint may not look like it now, but he's going to hate himself if something happens to you and he wasn't around to stop it.” Natasha didn't know when, but her grip on his arm had tightened, almost as if she was clinging onto him for her life. As she stopped talking, Natasha let out a short breath, frowning. 

“Goddamnit.” Without thinking, the assassin took a breath and leaned forward, kissing him. She didn't know if she was trying to keep him here or make her own selfish interests happy, but whatever the case, she didn't let go of him. 

He didn’t know that he needed the kiss. He held her closer, grabbing her waist and pulling her into deepen the kiss. She felt amazing to him and he needed her so much.

Natasha felt her heart skip a beat as he pulled her closer. It was unlike any feeling she had in years. And of all people, it was for Barney Freaking Barton. Her free arm slowly wrapped around his back and the grip on his arm loosened a little, but still holding him fast. He smelled like alcohol and pain, but Natasha didn't care. She wished she was a little taller though, but all that went away when he started to deepen the kiss, eliciting a small moan from the little redhead. 

As he kissed her, all he had in mind was why and how Clint had lost his chance with this young and strong woman. How did he let go of such a beautiful fighter who would seemingly do anything for someone like him? His free arm snaked around her waist and held her to him. Even if she was trying to stop him from leaving, at this point it was he who would hate to leave.

Natasha knew she had gone too far this time. It was one thing for them to have slept together. The Black Widow had bed plenty of men without ever feeling the slightest attachment, but something was different here. Natasha hated that she was just seemingly another of a dozen girls who had just fallen for Barney. She hated being bent out of shape over another guy. If love was for children, why did she feel like this. This wasn't love. That was too strong a word, too soon. But as she stood there, kissing him in her dining room, all of her tensions and inhibitions seemed to leave. 

The woman slowly pulled away and looked up at him, still pressed up against him as she took a deep breath. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest if she wasn't careful, but how could she be? Careful wasn't in her vocabulary, and Barney was obviously no exception. 

He lingered the kiss for a moment longer as she draws away from her. He hated looking like the fool that he was right now. What was he even doing? What even is on his mind right now?

Silently, he pulled away from her and looked away. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t get attached. It was not for him. He just could not. “I have to go. I need to meet someone… I will be back by evening, I promise.” he said softly.

“Barney, don't..” Her face fell slowly and she let out a short breath, gradually relaxing her hold on him. She wouldn't force him to stay, but she really had no way to keep him there. Natasha wasn't exactly going to say ‘please stay.’ It wasn't like her, but she really did feel it. 

“I will be back before you know it. Please, Natasha. I have to,” he said. “I won’t do anything stupid. I promise you I will be back.”

“Fine,” Natasha mumbled, pulling away slowly, her hand lingering on his as she sighed. “Just get back as soon as possible. I'll try and see what I can do here.”

“Thanks,” he said, drawing away and then thinking over what he wanted to say to her. Instead, he settled for nothing. He walked away, grabbing his jacket and his phone, pocketing it. He had to leave as soon as possible so that he could return just as quickly. Hopefully, Clint would be here by then.

“I’ll call you if he shows up.” As soon as he pulled away, Natasha turned and cleared off the table. She doubted he would. Clint was not happy. She didn’t really know why. Well, that was a lie. She was spending more time with Barney than him. He was probably jealous, among other things. Natasha kept her back to him as he left, not wanting to see him leave. As soon as he was gone, the assassin pulled out her laptop and started to research how to help him.

 

The day was cloudy. Even the skies were gloomy and dark it seems. Barney knew this was pretty much the last resort. He has never done this before. He walked down the riverside and waited where nobody would come to see him. He was waiting for someone important.

It has been a while now, the rendezvous time has long since passed. Why haven’t they turned up yet? Didn’t they get his message? He realised how much his heart was palpitating in his chest now, he was panicking.

Pulling out his phone again, he was about to text when a call from a private number came in. Answering cautiously, he kept silent until he heard who it was on the other line.

“Hello, it’s me, Trey,” the man on the other end of line spoke and Barney huffed out a sigh of relief.

“Hey. Where are you, man? I’ve been waiting-...”

“Listen. We can’t meet up anymore, there has been a slight change of plans. Gardner’s gone, only I know about you now. If they figure out that you work for us, they’ll kill me. We gotta lay low and wait this out.”

“Wait. What?” the redhead felt his heart skip a beat at that. “What are you talking about? Gardner’s gone? Look, it’s getting too dangerous. You gotta pull me out. Egghead’s surfaced. You can’t let him get me. He’ll kill me.”

“There really isn’t anything I can do right now. I’m in deep shit already and there is no way I can pull you out. You gotta stay on!” the gruff voice insisted.

“Are you even listening? They’re gonna kill me. I’m gonna fuckin’ drop by your home and you’re gonna pull me out right now!” Barney was way beyond saving at this point. He was panicking, he was close to breaking down.

“Listen here, you punk!” the man snapped. “You try anything funny. The next thing you know, I’ll have wiped out your details from this mission and you’ll die like a dog. You better stay put or you’ll have FBI on your tail.”

At that, the man hung up, leaving Barney yelling at the phone and almost tossing the device into the river. All he ended up doing was screaming into the empty rivers. He was torn. He had nobody else now. All he had was his true identity and now even that is at risk. He was close to being abandoned by the people he trusted, yet again. But the worse thing is that he didn’t even have his brother to lean onto anymore.

As Natasha sat alone in her apartment on her laptop, she began to do some digging. First, she had to see what all had been pinned on him. If he didn't have many convicted crimes, it wouldn't be the worst thing possible if he turned himself into SHIELD. She knew she could convince Fury to hire him. He trusted her. It took a while, but she had managed to gain his trust. 

There wasn't much about him on the internet. A few pictures here and there. A mostly abandoned Facebook. Seeing that she wasn't going to find anything, she decided to instead look and see what information she could find on his criminal record. There were plenty of websites that SHIELD gave her access to that showed any criminal record anyone had, be it a murder or a parking ticket. 

Nothing came up at first, but then she remembered that ‘Barney’ wasn't his name. Natasha quickly backspaced and typed in his real name, or what Clint had at least told her it was. A lot more came up. 

Most of what she saw was centralized to America. “That must be nice,” she mumbled as she looked down the list of who he was wanted by. Most of it seemed relatively normal, but as she read, she realized one key organization was missing. The FBI. Usually, if someone like Barney had gone this long without being caught, the FBI would have stepped in by now. It was weird that they weren't tracking any of this. 

Natasha immediately went to the Bureau’s website, pulling out her cheat sheet Tony had gave her that would allow her to get into their system. It was something they enjoyed doing, sharing hacks. And Nat used this one more than she would like to admit. It took her a few minutes to get in, but once she did, she immediately went to their wanted file, opening it up. Barney’s face immediately popped up. “That's more like it.”

But as soon as she clicked on his picture, a giant ‘classified’ label popped up across his eyes. That was weird. Why would a criminal be classified? As hard as she tried to get around it and into the file, she couldn't. Until she had another idea. Natasha reluctantly scrolled up to the roster of agents, fumbling with the keys as she typed his name. 

“Agent Charles Barton.”

Suddenly the small, happy world that had taken Natasha just over a week to build for herself came crashing down. He was FBI. Her Barney was FBI. Natasha glared at the screen, tears starting to form in her eyes, but she pushed them back. Angrily, she printed off the file and slammed her laptop shut. Had this all been a ploy? Had he been waiting for an opportunity to get to her? Was he following her and seized the opportunity when she dropped her phone? And now he has her for aiding and abetting his escape from a crime.

Her heart was pounding. What had he left to do? Was he bringing reinforcements? He knew how she fights. He could tell them her tricks, where her weapons were hidden. As soon as the papers printed, Natasha stuffed them into a Manila folder and loaded a gun, locking all the doors and windows except for the front one. Once she was satisfied with her place, Nat sat in the chair facing the front door, gun in one hand and the file in the other as she waited for him to come home. 

Broken, Barney headed home to where Natasha was. Funny. He called that place home when he has only been here for a short while. Maybe that was just how he felt safe in that place. He climbed in through the window, then noticed that she was sitting silently with a gun in one hand.

“I’m back,” he announces, in case she decided to shoot him.

Natasha immediately stood, her jaw set. She had enough time to sit there and stew so all sad and defeated emotions had left and were now pure resentment and anger. She remained quiet for a second, listening for the sound of any other agents he might bring. Not hearing anything, Natasha drew in a deep breath, her left hand clutched around the file and the other one with the gun slowly raised as it pointed at Barney.


	9. Chapter 9

“What the hell.. is this?” With that, she threw the file at his feet, two or three papers flying out in the process while her gun remained trained on him, her expression set in hard lines. 

When someone has a gun to your face, you raise your hands in surrender. That was what Barney had learnt before and that is what he was doing at this moment. Looking down to see the papers that had escaped from the file, he frowned and reached down to pick it up. It was his classified file with redacted information. Everything that was left before he’s gone undercover.

“It’s my Feds file,” he replied, answering her as she asks.

“You lied to me,” Natasha stated bluntly, her voice firm and direct. It was as if a switch had been flipped from who she had been around him to who she was now. She had learned years ago when to turn thoughts and emotions off. They only got in the way, and if she ever did allow herself the luxury of love, she had to know how to get back out of it if need be. “How long have you been watching me?”

“Watch you?” he frowned and then just let out a laugh when he realised what she was implying. “I’m not here for you. Do you really think the Feds are interested in anything SHIELD is up to? Just… Let me sit down and we can talk this over calmly. It isn’t what you think it is.”

Her glare hardened when he laughed. This wasn't funny. He lied to her, and about something goddamn huge. She shook her head at his request to sit. She was not going to let him have the upper hand if he was going to pounce. “You'd best start explaining, Charles. Or I start shooting.” 

Charles. It was back to business now, it seems. Offended by her words, he snarled back at her. “Then shoot. There isn’t anything else for us to do now, is there?”

He raised a hand and ran his fingers through his hair, exasperated by the fact that he had just lost another ally. One person he thought who would understand.

“Put the damned gun down!” he snaps, throwing the file on the table as he did. “Or just shoot damn it!”

After a careful moment of consideration, Natasha slowly let the gun drop to her side, her eyes never leaving him for a second. She was on her own turf, which was good, but she had no idea how many people he could have brought, so she wanted every advantage she could get. “Talk.”

Sighing, he walked over to the couch and seated himself down. If she wanted to get blood on her couch, so be it. He could really care less at this moment in time.

“I’m on a mission, okay? It has nothing to do with you, or Clint or anybody from SHIELD for that matter. You know I cannot disclose the details,” he said. He could really be stubborn when need be, maybe that was what made him the best candidate for this job.

“That's not at all good enough.” Everything about her body was rigid, the way she stood, the gun at her side, her clenched jaw. Everything except for her eyes. They were the only thing that would betray her. If anything, they almost looked pleading, as if she was going to beg him to explain himself out of this one, to tell her the truth so they could go back to the way they were. “If you don't tell me, you're never seeing that bag again, and I'm not helping you.”

“That bag doesn’t matter anymore. With or without it, I’m still not telling you. I can’t tell you anything,” he said.

If anything, this was the truth. He couldn’t tell her. He had to stay in this mission for as long as could or they would never pull him out. All he would end up being is an ex-agent who went rogue and died at the end of a barrel. He couldn’t do that. Especially not to Clint.

“I don't trust you.” Her voice came out barely above a whisper as she looked slightly away, taking in a short breath. “I did- I shouldn't have. I should have listened to Clint.” 

He looked up at her, for some reason he was not surprised. “Congratulations for realising that it was a bad idea to trust me then. If you’ll just hand my bag over now I will be on my way. And I will never appear in your life ever again. Trust me on that.”

Natasha really did not want him to leave at all. Not if he was telling the truth, but she really couldn't tell. She still wanted to protect him, and she knew she couldn't do that if he left, but she also needed to protect herself. The redhead stayed quiet for a minute as she thought, watching him. “I can't give you the bag.”

Sighing, he frowned to her. “What do you want from me right now? I cannot tell you what you need to know. I just want to get my bag and leave!”

Natasha stood there and silently weighed her options. If all he wanted was to take his bag and leave, then he wasn't really there for her. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, shaking her head. “I can't. If you are telling the truth, I'm   
protecting you.”

Scoffing, he rolled his eyes and got up to his feet. He had to make his way out of there. He couldn’t waste anymore time. Each second passing will make or break him. 

“Where are you going?” Without thinking, Natasha immediately stepped towards him, gun still in hand, but lowered to her side. None of this made sense to her. If he really was FBI, why couldn't he just get himself out of this. 

“Out of here,” he said easily, trying to sidestep her and leave. He wanted to get out of the window.

“Barney,” she started, matching his steps. Her voice sounded exasperated as she pressed her hand up against his chest, keeping him in place. “You have the easiest card out of this. Use it.”

For a moment there, he forgot that he was faced with a widely known assassin and his reflex action was just to push her hand. Within a blur of movements they had gone into a brawl, a fight of strengths and agility.

When he pushed her, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward, dropping the gun to the ground. Natasha ducked, expecting a punch since that seemed to be his thing. She held onto his wrist and turned with her back to his chest, flipping him forward over her head, trying her best not to hurt him. 

As he falls to the ground with a loud thud and a grunt, Barney found himself getting more defensive than he should. It was part of the routine, taking his opponent down with him as he wanted and so he grabbed her arm and locked her elbow, swiftly turning to bring her down while getting up to his feet.

Natasha felt her feet come out from beneath her and mumbled a few Russian expletives as she fell, turning so she fell on her side and not her back. She took in a deep breath, looking up at him as he stood. Instead of standing, she bolstered her arms and hands flat against the ground behind her head. Using her momentum to swing back, she raised her legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling herself up and swinging around, holding him from behind with her arms around his neck. “Barney- stop.”

He struggled against her, not knowing truly what he wanted to achieve. He just wanted to get out of there. He pushed against her, trying to pry her arm off his neck as he did. Maybe she wanted him to stop, but he could not do it. And he kept struggling until he could not breathe, her grip only getting stronger on him yet he did not relent.

“Barney, I don't want to hurt you, please stop.” Her arm tightened around his neck, careful not to constrict his trachea to kill him but to simply press on the veins bringing blood to his head so he'd pass out. “I'm trying to help you.”

It was Barney Barton. He was strong-headed, stubborn, hits like a truck on full speed and unrelenting. He would never give up despite knowing fully well that she was perfectly capable of killing him. He kept struggling until he passed out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Feeling him slowly drop to the ground, Natasha braced herself, landing on top of his back. She sighed softly when he fell, carefully getting off of him. Seeing that he was out, Nat grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him to her empty spare bedroom that was seldom used except for an occasion like this. The room was full of chains and pegs in walls and multiple boxes full of various torture tools. She wouldn't need those. As she dragged him into the room, she shoved him over to one of the round metal rings that stuck out of the wall, cuffing him to it. 

It didn’t take long before he regained consciousness and the first thing he became aware of was the cuffs on his hands. “Let me go,” he said, his voice calm and void of any emotions.

She hadn't moved from in front of him since she got him in there. Natasha looked up at him and shifted, sitting up a little taller. “Stop being stupid.”

“Cuffing me to the wall is smart? What are you gonna do? Hand me to over to SHIELD?” he asked, leaning back onto the wall and just staring at her by now. “You don’t trust me anymore. I get that. But believe when I say, I will never lie to hurt you. I will never even try to hurt you. All I wanted to do was finish my job and leave. That is all…”

“I'm not giving you to SHIELD,” she sighed, shaking her head. Natasha didn't really know what she was going to do at this point. And she hadn't planned on tying him up, but he had pretty much attacked her, and self defense was second nature to her. “I didn't want to tie you up, but you kinda freaked out on me.”

“Can you hear yourself? Do you even believe your own words?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re scared I’m going out to get myself killed. I know. I’m not stupid. I do not plan to go out to kill myself!”

“I'm not scared.” The words came out almost offended, but she knew she was lying. She was scared even though she didn't even know who he was anymore. Natasha wanted to help him, but none of this made sense. “I don't understand. You're not a criminal. Why won't you just get yourself out of this?”

“Because I can’t!” he insisted and looked right at her. “When your handler tells you to shut up and jump, you shut up and jump. You know that!”

He glared at her for awhile, then slowly let go of his anger and he felt tired. He was so tired, and it showed as he spoke. “You know that…”

“Yea, I do, but there's other ways to do what he says. You're not supposed to die. Your life is more important. If it's not working right now, you go back in and tell them how it's going. You come up with a new plan, new agent if need be. But god damn it, Barney, you're not going back out there in the field.”

He fell silent and looked away. He could not do it. He could not say it. It wasn’t as simple as she thinks, not in his life. “Not everybody can be the Black Widow.”

“No, but you can still live.” She tried to ignore the quip and just watch him. Silently, she shuffled forward on the ground next to him and unlocked the handcuffs. “I'm sorry for making you pass out.”

Allowing her to undo his cuffs, he stayed silent. He hated that he was bested but he hated it more that he was in a tight spot and he did not know what he could do.

“Clint is not coming, is he?” he asked softly, rubbing his wrists. “Then there is no point in telling him anything. He must have some troubles of his own to deal with. Maybe you could pass him the message instead.”

“What'd you want to tell him?” As soon as he was out, Natasha turned and watched him, frowning. She couldn't think how to help him. All the ideas she had in mind changed now that he was FBI. “You don't have to give me… the exact details. But.. does the guy who's out to kill you have anything to do with what your mission is?”

“Yes,” he sighed, finally relenting to tell her. It was a matter of life and death anyway. “I was sent to watch him, get evidence about him. I worked for years, all the way up to where I am to gain his trust. Now I got plenty of things against him, but still not enough to slam him for good. That’s why I can’t quit now. And… If I do… they’ll drop me off like a hot potato. They’ll wipe my files clean and I’ll be nothing more than a racketeering scum with a military background. Even that, I dropped out of…”

He looked up to her and then smirked. “So. Any plans?”

Her mind was running a hundred miles an hour as he spoke, trying to think of any plans she could formulate. She had one, but she'd be surprised if he actually liked it. Natasha nodded once and rubbed her face. “He doesn't know me. I could go after him.”

His eyes went wide in awe for her suggestion, he gasps softly and nodded to her. “Why have I not thought about that? Send the world-renowned assassin to kill my enemy! That would solve all of my problems!”

“I might be ‘world-renowned,’ but I also have experience in hiding my appearance. Why else would SHIELD still send me on missions?” Her mind wandered as she thought back to the time that she disguised herself as a panel member to fool Pierce and Hydra. “You'd be surprised.”

“Let me be honest with you, I don’t know what to do,” he said softly, sitting there in silence. “I need the evidence and him alive to prove that I was on a mission. But him being alive also means I am at risk.”

“I can do that,” Natasha insisted, forcing him to look at her. “Just tell me what I need to find. Hell, I have the means to make myself look like whoever I want. Show me a picture of one of his men, and I can be in there in a flash. I'll get you what you need.”

“Why do you want to help me so much?” he asked, looking up at her and awaiting her reply. He really did want to know.

Natasha went quiet and simply looked at him, not really sure what to say. She knew her answer, but it wasn't something she was willing to say--not yet at least. It'd be a long while before she'd admit anything. “I don't… think an innocent man should die.”

He nodded, not knowing if he should even feel slighted by her response. What else was he expecting from her? She was meant to kill, not to love. “I only know certain details about how he works and who he works with. If I can get evidence that could nail him down, I should be able to get back on track.”

“You're not going back in,” she sighed, shaking her head. Going in for him seemed like the only logical answer. It would be easy for her to get in disguised, and to not be seen. Barney on the other hand was a whole different story. “Why won't you let me go in for you?”

“Because it will only mean I’m getting someone else involved. It means getting your life in danger in exchange for mine,” he said. “Don’t you understand? Nobody knows about this. Not even Clint knows about me being a Fed. Nobody knows because I would never want anyone else in trouble for what I do!”

Natasha paused and tilted her head, thinking. It wasn't exactly what she was looking for, but she'd take it. She knew she shouldn't get her hopes up. Everything so far could have been more lies than fact. “You're not involving me. I'm involving myself. I'm good at what I do, Barney. I promise. I'll be fine, and I'll get you the information that you need.”

“No. I have to go in, if I disappear like this they will just get more suspicious of me,” he said. He sighed and shook his head. “I will go. If you want to help, then go ahead. I just need to do something, there is no way for me to sit idle.”

“Then tell me what I need to do,” she said simply, watching his every move. She was going to help him, and she was going to get him out of this. If he was going to go back in, she could use her proximity to at least try to keep him safe. That was good. Her shoulders relaxed a little, and she let out a long breath. 

“He has a safe in his office, nobody knows the passcode. There has got to be something inside,” he said. “Maybe once we get a hold of that, we can figure out whether or not to hand him over. Hopefully, there is enough evidence to take him in.”

“All right.” Natasha nodded and stood, holding out a hand to him as she stood in front of him. Things would be different now. He had lied to her, but she still did want to help him, even if she wasn't sure how much she should trust him. 

He knew she didn’t trust him anymore. For all he knew, she could be ensnaring him to hand him over to SHIELD. Even if that happened, it was still better than death like a street dog and that end was awaiting him patiently. He took her hand and got to his feet, drawing away quickly enough so they did not have to be forced to maintain contact. Things had long since changed between them and he would not do much to change it back.

“I will get the safe, you can try their backup hardware,” he said. “Have you used a security decoder before? I have one from the Feds. I’d assume SHIELD’s is more hi-tech.”

“I have my own,” she nodded, wiggling her fingers as she pointed to the temple of her head, smiling half-heartedly. “Tony taught me a good bit. Something I could add to my resumé. It's been helpful.” After New York, while the two spent much of their time together, Tony had taught her the wonders of computer code. It had come in handy for years and saved her in many situations. Guess that's what happens when you learn from the best. 

“When do we want to do this? I'm going to need a picture of one of his men.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to get a picture. Maybe we could get close enough and then take one, I don’t have any at the moment,” he sighed.

“Do you know his name?” Natasha turned, walking back into her living room as she talked to him. “I can find a picture.”

“Uh… Benedict Cossacks, I know that is one of his henchmen,” he said, walking out of the room as he rubs his wrist. 

As Natasha turned into the living room, she yanked out her laptop, flinging it open. Her body tensing ever so slightly at the sight of the still open FBI window. Without saying anything, she immediately began to search for as much information on him as she could. She was going to have to become this man for an indefinite period of time. She needed to know as much as she could. “Any personal ticks he has that I should know about?”

“His best friend, ah. I mean, his partner is Foo Young. They’ve been in the business for a long time,” he said. “I think he’s gay, though. Tends to play with a knife, chew gum… Anxious habits.”

“All right.” As her eyes skimmed the screen, Natasha saved a few pictures that she could find, not relishing the idea of playing a gay guy, but she assumed it wouldn't be too bad since a majority of her jobs included her flirting up men. “Long relationship or not? Because that'd make things more difficult.”

“I have no idea, my job was to shun them. Build my own brand that way, see?” he said, heading off to take a drink. “You can act like you caught me.”

Her head tilted at first. She guessed that was one way the FBI was different from her methods. Barney was told to keep away and stay apart. But Natasha had learned that the best way to succeed was through assimilation. By becoming one of them and liked by them, she'd get better information and results. While it   
may take longer, in the long run, it was best. But time was of the essence here. “Caught you doing what specifically?”

“Egghead wants to get me bad, he’d have sent people to hunt me down. Cossacks’ the kind to take people in and get rewarded for it, Foo Young’s more… shoot first,” he explained. “If you take me in and insist that you will only deliver me to the big boss himself, I’ll probably never be let out of your sight. Cossacks’ done that before, I’ve seen it myself.”

“All right,” she nodded, sending the pictures to a tiny little Bluetooth box in the palm of her hand. Once satisfied, she pulled out two thin magnetic metallic strips that she nestled behind her ears. Before standing, Natasha pressed a button on the cube and a holographic screen projected across her face before slowly morphing into Cossack. She stuffed the box in her pocket and stood, smiling. “So, how do I look?”

Barney watched her work. It was some kind of strange superspy thing that she had and it was like watching a movie. He actually enjoyed it but when she was done ‘morphing’ into that guy, Barney scrunched up his nose. “Weird, but accurate. He just looks like that… Like he needs to be punched in the face.”

“Please don't,” she said, turning and walking back to her room to grab some things. She looked at a few of the pictures and grabbed some clothes that looked like something he would wear. As soon as she got close enough to the real Cossack, her device would pick up on his voice patterns and analog them so she could use it. Once she was dressed, Natasha walked back out to see Barney. “All right, so how do we get this guy on his own and let me take his place?”

“I can lure him out. Get him alone and you can jump him then,” he said, thinking of the plan. “Leave that to me. Are you ready?”

“Ready, Freddy,” she nodded, turning back to him and picking up one of her hidden guns from underneath her couch. It could work, and she hoped that it did. It was the only way she could think of helping him. This plan was much less fleshed out than her usual work. She was letting her heart rule her mind, and that never ended well. “Let’s go.”


	10. Chapter 10

The journey wasn’t too far. Barney had gone alone and purposefully walked down the streets to be recognised. He smirked when he caught sight of the man in his car, starting to walk out and chase him down.

Natasha kept her own face on for the time being. The last thing she needed was to spook Cossack with his face walking across the street from him. She stayed still in a phone booth, pretending to be on the phone with someone. Using the reflection on the glass, she watched for Barney to make sure he was still safe. 

True enough, the man rounded the street and chased Barney down. Once contact was made, they went into an engaged fist fight, battling with strength and skill. Barney, despite looking a lot like a homeless bum, had both.

Natasha could see the fight go down from her spot in the phone booth. Once she could tell that he was winning, she ‘hung up’ her phone and quickly stepped outside, crossing the street to come up behind them both. The redhead was ready to help if need be, but before they got rid of him, she had to record his voice. “Hey, asshole.”

“Barton. You’re gonna die, they’re gonna kill ya,” the pinned-down guy started threatening him with all sorts of things and all Barney could do was wait until Natasha confirmed that it was enough so they could knock the lights out of the asshole.

Her jaw set as she took another step forward, looking down at the man on the ground. She could feel her body tense at the words he said. Barney was getting out of this, and she knew it. These assholes were the reason Barney was on the run, the reason he might not be able to be around for Clint indefinitely if he had to go into hiding. Natasha drew in a deep breath and nodded, glaring down at him. 

With a simple jab to the face, Cossacks was silenced and Barney tied his hands up behind him with his own jacket. “Alright. Now we gotta get there.”

“Does this mean I get to tie you up and drag you along?” Natasha tried her best to smile a little, honestly finding it a bit funny. He'd probably make her pay for that one later. But it was worth it. “I brought some duct tape. Finally get you to shut up.”

“Ah great. Hello duct tape my old friend,” he sighed and ruffled his hair slightly. “Punch me.”

“What? Punch you?” Her eyebrows furrowed as she stood up, looking at him. Standing didn't help much. She still wasn't exactly level with him. That didn't hold her back too much, but punch him?

“Yeah, didn’t you hear me?” he asked, readying himself.

“I always hear ‘punch me’ when you're speaking, but it's usually subtext.” Natasha laughed softly and tilted her head. 

“Yes, but well… We have to make it look like you took me down after a struggle,” he said.

She let out a short breath and nodded. He was right, but she wasn't gonna let him know that. “All right. This is going to hurt.” Before she even finished talking, not wanting him to really see it coming, she planted her left foot back and followed through with a punch to his face. 

“Oh shit!” he cursed when he took the jab in the face, holding the spot and pacing around trying to walk the pain off. “Oh… Shit… You totally used your shoulder on me. Oh…”

“That's.. for not telling me.” Natasha let out a short breath and stood back down, rubbing her hand softly as she looked down at the unconscious Cossack next to him. She was still angry, of course, but she didn't realize how much until she had the chance to actually do something about it. After hitting him, she bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to look quite up at him again as she looked around, pretending to try and figure out what to do next. 

“Not telling you what? About me? Ah man, fair enough. But that’s for another day…” he sighed and nodded. “Alright. Tie me up. Kinky as that sounds.”

She nodded shortly, setting down her backpack on the ground. As soon as she did, Natasha opened it, pulling out a coil of rope and motioning for Barney to come closer. She couldn't help smiling ever so slightly at the joke even though she was still pissed at him. She needed to stay optimistic or this would never work. Once his hands were sufficiently tied, she reached for a roll of duct tape and looked up at him, going still for a second. 

He grunted when she tied his hands a little too tight, but there was enough room to move at least. Looking at her, he knew exactly what she had in mind. They were delivering him right to the hungry lion’s den. If they could pull this off, it would be great. If not… It would practically be the last time they would be face to face like this. Alive.

“I really need you to be careful. Okay?” She was talking more to herself than to him. If she messed up even slightly, the whole thing would come crashing down if he figured out Natasha wasn't in fact the asshole they thought she was. Her heart slowly began to race as she stood there, scared this might be the last time either of them saw the other. There was too much riding on this. If she wasn't even thinking of herself, she had to be thinking of Clint. This was his brother, and as apathetic as he liked to seem, he would be upset if this went downhill. “Don't make them angry for fun. I don't want them to hurt you just because you're being a smart ass.”

At her words, he couldn’t help the little mischief he let out from his gaze. Despite being tied up and faced with duct taped, he could still afford to shrug and quirk an eyebrow sassily. It wasn’t his fault that he was born a smart ass. “You say that like you don’t like my ass.”

She let out a soft breath, watching him as she tried to picture how this was all going to go down. If she was honest with herself, she was just stalling. This had seemed like a good plan at the time, but now, she wasn't so sure, and she realized she was gambling more than just her own life. “I like it plenty fine,” she barely spoke, looking back up at him. “That's why I need it in one piece when we're done.”

As she turned the duct tape over in her hand, Natasha slowly tore off a piece, looking up at him. “Barney, do you remember what you said to me about assuming I'm someone who falls in love hard and fast?”

He sighed and nodded, waiting and just waiting for her to put the tape on his face. “Yeah. What about it?”

“You were right.” The smile on Natasha's face slowly fell as she reached up and pressed the tape against his lips before he could say anything. She was scared of what he might say, scared of what she might miss out on if this went wrong. And it seemed best to her that she didn't hear whatever the next thing was that he'd have to say. “I'm sorry.”

Had she not taped up his mouth, he would not have said anything either. He knew he was right, it was her soft spot. Like Clint had an unspoken trait of taking responsibility for something that is virtually beyond repair. Like Barney had a soft spot for Clint no matter how far away and how long they would have lost contact. Like the social media manager of Wendy’s always had a strong urge to reply to tweets with sass and burns.

Nonetheless, he knew he was right. He just didn’t know she would admit it.

He sighed and waited quietly for her to help him up. It was getting weird by this time since she wore the face of an arch enemy. This is it. This is where the point of no returns begin. 

Once she had taped his mouth closed, Natasha reached into her pocket and clicked the box, the facial mask materializing over her face. She took in a deep breath and watched him, helping him up before getting him into the back seat of Cossack’s now empty car. The no-longer-redhead got into the driver seat and started the car. 

It was uncomfortable, the way he was placed. He had to be, or it would not look real. So he sighed and closed his eyes, waiting for the time to come for him to meet his match.

Natasha ran over the route Barney had told her in her mind, driving as confidently as she could. She was glad that practiced confidence was something she was good at, despite how nervous she was about this. After a good twenty minutes of driving in silence, Natasha parked outside of a darkened building and unlocked the car, walking around before opening Barney's door and yanking him out by his arm. “Come on.”

He protested at the grab, yanking his arm away realistically but finally getting dragged out of the car. He didn’t want to be here, truly. He just wanted to leave as quickly and as best possible. He hated being bait, but it was better him than anybody else.

“Hey, asshole.” Natasha grabbed his arm hard, yanking him back to her as she dragged him along into the building in front of her. He had told her directions and described the place to her. She had to act as if this was all memorized, normal to her. As she walked past two men who recognized her as Cossack, she pushed Barney a little as she directed him inside, never letting go. 

Those men recognised Barney too, they knew the end that he was headed for and so did he. As they entered the building, it looked like any other corporate office with the emblem of the company on it. This could go any direction at any time.

Walking past some guy she assumed worked there, she stopped in front of him, steadying herself before she spoke. “Where's Elihas? I have a feeling he'll want to see this one for himself.”

The guy looked over, seeing Barney and took a step forward but the one next to him stopped him. “He’s in the office.”

“Better watch it. Don't want to mess up his pretty face before the boss gets to him. That's his job.” Natasha turned and looked at Barney, smirking menacingly as he nodded to the other two, turning down the hall towards where Barney had told her it was. 

More snarling ensued. Who knew it would be this annoying to just take a trip to the boss’ office? Oh. Right. Barney definitely did.

Natasha smiled dark, masking how scared she really was for him. When they finally made it to the door, she gently place her hand on the small of his back. She knew it was weird for him, not actually looking or feeling like herself, but if this was the last time she saw him, he needed to know that she was really there. Removing her hand, she shoved him through the door. “Look who I found, boss!”

The man was clean shaven, his head oddly shaped a little elongated up the top of his skull… Actually like the shape of an egg. When his eyes looked up and saw a bloodied and gagged Barney standing by the door, he tilted his head and snapped his finger to the side. Afterwhich, his assistant handed him a freshly lit cigar.

“Well, well… Did the squirrel fall face first on the ground or what?” he snarked, taking a drag from the foul-smelling cigar. Its smoke filled up the room pretty quickly, as if it was already dense enough in there with so many buffed men standing around looking like they were guarding the VIPs in a club.

Getting to his feet, Egghead easily matched Barney in height and rounded the table. The pin-striped suit he wore was a flashy match for his golden accessories and the way he held his cigar looked like his rings were in the way. “Where’d you find this sonofabitch?”

Seeing him stand and walk over set Natasha on edge, but she remained as calm as ever, smile on her- well… his? face as she watched Egghead, shoving Barney forward just slightly. She couldn't seem as if she was afraid to be out of his reach, even though she really was. 

“He was stupid, that's how. Found him just wandering around town. And as for his face? Well…” Nat smiled menacingly, letting out a short laugh. “We had a little fun before I brought him here.”

Barney all but rolled his eyes at that, had he been able to snark back he would already have. One of the henchmen reached forth and ripped the tape from his mouth, earning a hiss and wince. “I knew I should have shaved this morning…”

“Don’t worry too much, the cops won’t even recognise you when we’re done,” Egghead growled, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’m gonna ask you now… Where is my stuff?”

It took everything in Natasha not to jump forward and smack him for hurting Barney, and then the threatening that came after. But Nat hadn't gone through years of training for situations just like these only to jump the gun and blow her cover. Instead, she stayed put and watched, thinking over in her head when she should go to get the information. 

“What stuff? I don’t even know what you’re ta- oof!” he took a fist to the gut. Egghead was a rough man, violence was always his go-to.

Grabbing Barney by the collar, he made the redhead straighten up. “You won’t talk like this. But I know how to,” he said, glancing over to his henchmen. “Good job for taking the rat in. Now get out of my face.”

She really didn't want to leave him, not like this. What could he possibly have that would make Barney talk? Nat had almost gotten lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the order to leave, but just in time, she turned to walk out, hearing the door slam shut behind her. 

Natasha needed to work, and she needed to work fast. As she walked, she could feel the USB still in her pocket. All she had to do was find their main computer source and get as much shit as she could find that would incriminate Elihas for anything, and get Barney out. Timeline was the hardest part. The longer she waited, the more he'd hurt Barney. But the sooner she broke him out, the more he'd be expecting a fight. So for the time being, she simply followed the other men into the common area they walked into, and she leaned against a wall, watching. 

It did not take long before Barney was strapped down onto a chair and taking a beating by two men. In between punches, the redhead would throw some snark of his own.

“You know, this isn’t my idea of threesome,” he said and groaned as he takes another shot. Egghead had built his empire for the sole purpose of fear and on the fear of the people. He had all the muscles he needed to maintain that and evidently, punks like Barney often dropped by just to make things difficult for his business like this.

“You don’t get to talk,” the villain growled, apparently fuming mad at Barney for something. “You stole my money. I want it back.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, the only money I’ve got is scraps I took from the streets. And it still ain’t yours,” that answer earned him another blow to the face, making his spit blood when the impact of a fist hits his jaw. His eye was swelling shut, his lips were a busted mess. All he needed to do was wait for the right time.

Natasha sat on a couch and simply pulled out her phone, playing some games. Sometimes the best thing to do was just sit and wait. Waiting allowed her to observe the people in the room. It didn't take long for her to figure out who the certified idiots were and who would be the easiest to take out if this all went south. Plus, this position here allowed her to watch when Barney would be either taken out of the room or left alone. She had a clear view down the entire hallway. It would also be helpful for finding the computer lab later on.

So Natasha just sat there quietly over the next few hours. The quieter she was, the less she had to verbally act like the asshole she was dressed as. 

After what seemed like hours, Egghead finally got a call. Someone from his business circle had decided to talk to him at this time, and so he left the room. Barney was then left behind with a guard who was easily twice his size.

The room had thinned out and there were only a few people still left hanging around. Most had gone off to get dinner most likely, but she had stuck behind. There was no way she was leaving Barney here alone. Besides, she needed to wait for her signal. 

Groaning and grunting, Barney kept looking at the man in front of him. “Man… This place stinks. Does Egghead have gas problems or what? Ugh just kill me now…”

“If you don’t shut up, I just might,” the guard snapped.

“Oh but you can’t, can you? I know he told you to watch me. Not kill me. What are you gonna do then, stinky ass? Give me a haircut like yours?” he teased.

“Oh you son of a bitch,” the guard grabbed a roll of duct tape, offended that Barney took a jab at his receding hairline.

As he takes the step forth, however, Barney took the chance to attack the man. He didn’t need his hands to subdue a man who was pretty much double his size and weight and before long, the guard was knocked out on the floor. Barney had broken out of the binds in the chair and ready to take over the world.

He walked to the window where the blinds had been shut. It was then he began to open and close them, keeping out of view so nobody could see him.

Natasha sat up slowly, noticing the blinds moving from the opposite side of the corridor. Seeing that as her cue, she slowly stood and pocketed her phone, purposefully walking past the window so he'd see that she was on the move. Barney had told her before where the computers were, and she played back his instructions in her mind as she walked towards where the doors were. 

Once he sees her walk past him, he was on the move. He started searching the tables and the drawers. There had to be something. He needs something substantial or he would be dead. Finding his safe, he knew hacking it would only make things worse, so he searched around it.

Making the final turn down the hall, the assassin turned towards the two locked doors. She pulled a lock pick out of her pocket and quickly went to work on the tumbles. After a minute or two, the lock clicked between her fingers, and the door opened. She smiled and walked inside, locking the door behind her. 

Crossing the room, she looked to make sure the office was empty before walking to the desktop in the middle of the room. Natasha pulled out a thumb drive and loaded it into the computer. There were a few firewalls up, so Natasha quickly went to work on them. 

This is bad, he realised. Not only his fingerprints but his blood would be all over the things he touched. Pushed by the time limit that they had, he started searching frantically and found a single file. It was a manilla file that was sealed shut. He could open it now or he could do it later, it didn’t matter. What matters is that he would need to leave as soon as he could.

It only took a little while for her to get inside, and once she did, she knew she had him. Emails, plans, web history, it was all there. She quickly plugged in the USB drive and called the police. They should be here any minute. Sighing softly, she leaned forward and continued to look around the desktop while she waited for the drive to load. 

As she did that, Barney was still searching for plenty of other things. It was then he found something that looked oddly similar to a key. It was strange because he never thought that in this day and age, someone would still be using a physical key. Taking it, he turned back to the safe and only hoped it would fit.

Natasha felt over her face, making sure the screen was still there as she looked down at her watch. They needed to get out, and quickly. She knew it wouldn't take the police long to get there, but she had effectively left Barney in a room by himself for when they did come. She wasn't even sure if he had a weapon or not. Groaning softly she looked at the laptop, fighting it had gotten enough. She grabbed it and ran over to the door, swinging it open. 

When he pushed the key into the safe, an alarm started blaring wildly overhead and chaos ensued outside. Some of the henchmen busted into the room only to find their guard was on the floor and Barney was free. “Shit,” the redhead cursed under his breath as he ends up having to fight them all to escape.

“That doesn't sound good..” Natasha paused, wondering if it would be better to fight as one of them or as herself. “Screw it..” She knew that once the police came, she couldn't be mistaken for one of them, and that as soon as she started fighting them, her cover would be blown anyways. Grabbing the corner of the screen, she ripped it off her face and sprinted down the hallway to where she knew Barney was. 

Barney was taking them left and right, grabbing whatever he could get to protect himself. Of course, there weren’t much of a melee weapon for him to grab in that office so all he could make do with was the two broken legs from his chair. Once he’s taken down the three men that had come in, he turned back and grabbed the key before running out of there. It was horrible given his present condition, drenched in his own blood and sweat.

In her haste, she almost ran into him as he ran out, going to slide tackle him, but coming up at the last second, seeing that it was him. He looked like shit. Must have been something Clint picked up from him. Her eyes widened and she frowned, touching his arm gently. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine. We gotta get out of here before Egghead comes back,” he said, grabbing his side with a wince. Broken ribs are a bitch to heal.

He walked as quickly as he could out of there, only to be met with more henchmen and using their weight against them. He wasn’t the biggest guy there, but if there was anybody who understood the benefits of having a lithe form, it would be Natasha. Out of frustration, he tackled one of the guys and took him down; along with the door.

She could tell that something was seriously wrong in the way that he was walking. They needed to get out, and fast. Running beside him, she stopped when the men came out. Thankfully most of them had gone on a dinner break, but that wasn't to say that Elihas wouldn't call them back once he figured out something was wrong. 

Shrugging off the giant bulky coat that she had been wearing, Natasha's suit appeared underneath, and she immediately launched forward, wrapping her legs around the waist of some guy and sending all her weight backwards so he fell forwards face first. She folded underneath him then rolled away, kicking him in the face before moving onto the next guy.

Grunting in pain, he got to his feet and turned back to see Natasha taking down another guy. “Let’s go!” he called out, urgency befitting the situation now. If they get caught by Egghead again, they would both earn a bullet to the brain and he did not want that.

“All right.” She hopped up and ran over to where he was. He was having a bit of difficulty doing… anything. Her jaw clenched as she imagined what they had done to him. Natasha knew she was strong, so she ran over and hooked her arm carefully around   
his back and ran as gently as possible with him. “Where are you hurt? Did they shoot you?”

“No, they liked the sound of their fists hitting my face too much,” he groaned, trying to go as fast as possible with his limp and hurting body. Her support was actually much needed, he couldn’t tell really what was hurting inside of him. “Probably a few cracked ribs, my shoulder is really hurting right now so I’m guessing that too. And I can’t really see from my left eye, is it swelling? I’ll be fine, don’t worry too much about me. Did you call for backup?”

Her jaw clenched tightly as she held him close, listening as he lifted off all the things they had done to him. It was one thing to have to go through the torture yourself. That could be shrugged off, for her at least. It was mind over matter. But Natasha was extremely protective of those she cared for, and this was pushing hard on every button that she had. 

“I did. They're on their way. The police.” Soon, she could hear the sirens, and she stopped, thinking. “Barney, you need to hide. You're not going to be able to fight.”

He let out a soft grunt and turned to Natasha. She was right, he couldn’t fight and if the cops got hold of him the FBI would too. Sighing, he pulled his arm off from her shoulders and nodded. “No point hiding though, I’ll need to drive away.”

“No, you can't drive. And I'm not letting you go off on your own. You need a hospital.” Gently, she ran her fingertips over the surface of the skin on his rib cage. “If you move wrong, you could puncture a lung.” Worry washed over her face for the first time in a long time. She was worried about him, and it scared her. He had become another person on the small list of people in her life that she would do anything for. And he had managed to do so in such a short period of time. Natasha frowned slightly and took a deep breath. 

Before she could say anything, shots ran out down the hallway and she flinched, looking over her shoulder. “We have to go. Let them take care of this shit. And you can turn in the proof after this is all over. You'll be in the clear.”

Barney tried not to flinch or to react to her finger brushing over the spot that hurt like hell. It was part of his training, also part of everything he learnt as a child. If you can’t take a beating, you probably deserve it.

Ducking at the sound of gunshot, he quickly walked with her away from there. He hid behind a huge pile of boxes. There seemed to be a lot of things there that Egghead was transporting, probably weaponry. The cops were going to have a field day.

“What do we do now?” he asked.

Natasha ran with him as she crouched down behind the boxes. She didn't really know what to do. Their car was on the other side of the lot, at the front. “I can run.. get the car. If you stay here. And I'll come back and get you.”

“Yeah, alright,” he agreed easily. He was hurting and could barely run, of course that would be the best idea. Grabbing her hand, he looked to her and told her in full seriousness. “I’ll be fine.”

Now it was Natasha's turn to do something stupid. As he took her hand, she paused for a second and watched him. There was no guarantee that she'd get back here for him. Of course she'd try, but there was always the chance that either he got caught or she did. Leaning forward, she kissed him carefully, not wanting to hurt him, but she couldn't hold back everything that she felt. She let out a long breath and slowly pulled away. “Be careful.”

All he wanted to do was to tell her not to worry, but her kiss made him weak in the knees. That, or the beating was the real reason. As she draws away and reminds him to be careful, he gave her a small boyish smirk that he always had.

“You too. Now make your sprint,” he told her.

Her hand gently rested on the side of his face for a second before she stood and quickly ran across the last few yards of the building towards the outside. Her car was on the other side, so she had to hurry. Thankfully, she ran quicker than most people, not as fast as Steve, but almost. She could thank the serum for that. Eventually, she made it to the car and she hopped inside, starting the engine. It was then that she realized how much she had been shaking. “Shit..”

He watched her run a good distance before realising there was a cool feeling at the back of his head. “Put your hands in the air and get to your feet,” the stranger commanded.

Having pretty much no other choice, he got to his feet and did as asked. Giving it two seconds, he turned and grabbed the gun easily. With it now pointed to the officer, he had a better chance to escape but he was truly unable to decide what to do.

“I’m going to drop the gun, I’m not the bad guy,” he told the officer only just before getting shot in the arm by one of the henchmen. He ducked and grabbed the officer down with him, cursing when he realised the officer had gotten shot as well. “Shit!”

Peering over, he shot down the henchmen with precise calculated shots. Then turned back to the officer. “Damn it. Dude, you’ll be fine. Your friends are gonna get you, I’m sorry. I gotta go.”

Natasha hurried with the car back to where she had left Barney. Unsure of who was actually left inside, she didn't know how long he'd have. But she could hear the gunshots, and that caused her to speed up, pressing down hard on the gas until she stopped right outside the door she had left him at. Her hand beat the wheel hard, beeping the horn loud into the night. He needed to get out. 

As more gunshots were heard, he could hear the loud honking and dashed that way. He didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire but it was tough to do that when you have to run past two parties with guns and rifles.

Seeing a henchmen from the distance, he turned and shot at him. Not a minute later, he figured it was bad judgement for him. The bullet had not gone to the henchmen he had meant for it too, but instead lodged itself into an officer who just had to step in between them. Talk about having bad timing.

“Come on. Come on.” Natasha clenched her jaw and beeped the horn again, waiting. One of the men she had seen earlier in the lounge room came running towards where she was, so she grabbed a gun and shot him directly between the eyes. 

That shot earned him attention. Before he knew it, the cops were shooting at him too and all he could do was run and duck. The car was there in his line of sight, the cops were all coming to him.

This is not good. He cannot do this. Not to Natasha.

With that thought in mind, he turned and ran away from the car. Away from her. Clutching whatever that hurt the worst at that time, he jumped off the side of the bridge and rolled on the gravel, falling into the waters.

Seeing him come out the door, Natasha relaxed a little. This would all be over soon. Her eyes soon met with his though, and she frowned. Something was wrong. As he turned and ran the other way, she yelled loudly, not his name, not wanting to give him away. 

She quickly backed up and sped out of the parking lot, making a sharp turn so that she eventually made it onto the bridge. She was a few minutes ahead of the police since she had driven. Natasha practically threw open the car door and ran to the ledge, looking over. She couldn't see anything, only water.


	11. Chapter 11

The sounds of sirens drew closer, and she watched the water a second longer, stealing one last look before she was forced to get back into the car, riding off into the night. Whether he was alive or dead, she had no clue. And as she finally made it to her apartment, walking up the stairs, she slammed the door shut behind her, slumping down into a chair. “Shit..” 

Her hands came up to cover her face, and she just sat there. Even if he was dead, she had to clear his name. She had the proof, or enough proof. 

The night was so dark. It was beyond him, how he ended up by the shores. He woke up a lot later, bleeding by the arm and in a hell lot of pain.

Natasha didn't sleep a wink that night. It probably helped that she didn't exactly need much sleep, but it was mostly because she was worried about him. How she was supposed to clear his name, she wasn't sure. Surely the FBI would know who he was, and if she gave them everything, they'd back him up with the other authorities, right? She sighed and stood. If only he had told her what to do. 

If only he had told her what to do… It didn’t matter of course. Hiding out in a rundown boathouse, Barney could only worry about himself. He needed to take the bullet out and then get out of here. Morning had come, it was troublesome to walk with so much pain. He wondered if he could get fixed up as soon as possible too.

-

Natasha spent the next few days holed up in her apartment in the hopes that Barney would find his way back to her, but he never did. And after a little while, she started to notice a couple of the same cars passing her window day after day. As soon as she realized it, she closed her windows and locked the doors. Her first thought was that Elihas had somehow survived and was after her, and that made her thankful that Barney hadn't come back. 

That was the day there came a knock on her door. Evidently, it was not Barney. The man always climbed in through the window, despite the fact that he was not a superhuman and definitely not Spiderman.

The redhead froze. Picking up a gun from underneath the coffee table, she walked over to the door, pausing as she clicked off the safety. “Who is it?”

There was no reply, just silence from outside and another knock.

“Answer, or I swear to god, I start shooting.”

A badge slips through from the cracks between the door and the floor. FBI. Of course, they were just doing it by protocol.

“We just need to chat,” the man finally said, waiting for Natasha to check on his badge.

Natasha looked down at the badge and picked it up to make sure it was legit. She had made enough fake ones in her lifetime to know when they were real or fake, and this one checked out. “No weapons.”

“Do we leave our guns out in the corridors where children roam and play?” the agent asked, glancing to his partner and waited once more. “There are only two of us and we just need to chat. Besides, we won’t disarm ourselves and you don’t have to either. How’s that for a deal?”

Clenching her jaw, she unlocked the six locks on her door and held her gun up over her head before disarming it and setting it on the table next to her. Nat stood to the side and allowed them to come in, going quiet as they did so. There were plenty of weapons in the room, and having one out of her reach was fine enough. “Deal.”

The two agents were dressed in a white shirt and black pants, a jacket that matched as well. They stood around, taking note of the gun by her side.

“Let’s do us all a favor and skip the niceties? Do you know this man?” the taller one asked, unfolding a piece of paper and showing her the picture of Barney.

Her jaw clenched and she looked at the picture. It was Barney all right, but neither of them had prepared for what to do if this happened. She dropped her arms to her side and nodded reluctantly, deciding she'd do this one on her own. “I do.”

“We actually know. We’ve seen you around with him a few times,” the other, shorter and seemingly nicer agent said. “I’m agent Redford, this is my partner agent Craigs. We need to find Barton. Do you have any information that could help us?”

“Trust me,” she started, crossing her arms over her chest. “If I knew where Barney was, I'd be there right now instead of here.” They didn't know where he was either, and that wasn't a good thing more than likely. She sighed sharply and clenched her jaw for a second as she thought. “He worked for you guys, right?”

“We can’t tell you that-”

“Yes, he did,” the taller agent said. “He was one of our best. Plucked out from the Military. Young and fresh, perfect aim too. And then he went rogue for a couple of extra bucks. Now he has the entire world searching for him like the irresponsible shit that he is.”

She almost corrected him and said that he wasn't irresponsible, but she couldn't. It was true. “Look. If he works for you, then you know he's clean. Everything he did, he did for you assholes because he was too goddamn stubborn to break his cover. Now he's in the shit because of you guys.” 

Natasha felt herself get angrier than usual, her tone edging a point her calm demeanor usually didn't allow herself to go to. “He deserves to walk away from this. So you two better make sure that if he's still alive, any assholes who think he deserves to be dead get the story straight. All right?”

“Deserves to walk away from this?” Craigs scoffed and shook his head. “What kind of bullshit had he been feeding you now? Did he tell you that he killed his handler? Did he tell you why Egghead’s so bent on killing him? It’s because he has the key to a weapon of mass destruction. He’s had it for years. And now he’s close enough to get the weapon too. Why do you think he absconded from the location?”

He what? Everything stopped. Why the hell did she believe him? She had no real reason to. Clint had told her not to trust him, and that was exactly what she had gone and done. She had nothing to say to them. If they were right, then she looked like an idiot. And if they were lying, then she didn't need to say any more because they couldn't be trusted. Her jaw clenched, and she stood there, utterly humbled. 

Her silence confirmed their questions and Craigs just smirked. “Yeah. That’s what we thought.”

“We don’t want any trouble and he has dragged you into this, but we do have a solution,” Redford pulled out a pen and handed it to her. “It’s a tracker. You know how it works. If he ever comes by, or if you meet him somewhere. Just press the button. We’ll be there in no time. We just want to take the weapon out from his hands. It needs to be kept away safely.”

“Get out,” was all she said. Taking the pen in her hand, her fingers tightened around the plastic, threatening to break it if she wasn't careful. This couldn't be right. Nat was an almost perfect judge of character, up until now, and it hurt that someone she had allowed to her so close could be who they were making him out to be. 

“We’re done anyway,” Craigs said, turning away and leaving as told. Redford however, looked to Natasha again and nodded.

“We hope to seek your cooperation, that is all,” he said before leaving as well.

Once they were gone, Natasha slammed the door shut behind them, locking the door and throwing the pen at the wall. This was all bullshit. She had been so worried about him, this entire time. He probably wasn't even going to come back, ever. Yelling out once, she hit the wall once with her open palm, trying to let out some of the unusual anger she felt inside.


	12. Chapter 12

It was getting late. Barney was running out of places to hide and he had no other choice but to go to the one person he trusts at this moment in time. Going to her house was way too risky, and so he went to a payphone and dialled up her number, glancing around and waiting for her to pick it up.

As she yelled out angrily, her phone went off on the other side of the room. Her eyes narrowed at it and she huffed out, walking over to it. It was an unknown number, so she immediately pressed a button on the side of her phone that disabled any possible tracking. Once she was sure it was in place, she picked up. “Who is it?”

“Tash. It’s me,” he said in a soft voice. “I need your help. Bring stitches. I’ll see you at the bridge.”

And that was the end of the phone call. He hung it up and left the phone booth. It was not going to be easy to track him down and he made damn sure of it.

Natasha stared blankly at the phone when he hung up. Well wasn't that ironic. Her head turned and she eyed the pen from the other side of the room. She had a duty as a SHIELD agent and as an Avenger to protect the earth and the people inside of it, and if Barney had a weapon of mass destruction, it was her job to stop him. 

Going to the bridge was her only option at this point. She couldn't very well track him, but she knew who could. Grabbing the pen, Natasha took a few guns and strapped them to her person. Bringing stitches didn't even cross her mind as she walked out the door, driving to the bridge. Everything she thought about him had changed. Clint was right… more than likely. And she had to be prepared to not let him sway her feelings. 

Barney had been standing on the bridge for a while, his eyes closed as he trained his breathing while the cars passed him by. The beautiful solace in the brink of chaos. This is it.

Once Natasha saw the bridge, she parked a little ways off, opting to walk for the rest of the way. The last thing she needed to do was to draw attention to where he'd be. If she absolutely had to, she had the pen for that. Her hand wrapped around the small sleek metal I object in her jacket pocket as she walked. 

Eventually, she found him. Natasha did her best to suppress the frown she felt building up inside. He was hurt, but maybe he deserved it. It would make it harder for him to get away, for sure. “Well you look like shit.”

He opened his eyes at her words, glancing over and smirking. “Guess so,” he said and glanced to her hands before looking away. “I need to lay low for a while. Everything’s gone wrong. I don’t even know if I could come back.”

“I hope you have a place in mind.” She brought her hands out of her pockets and crossed her arms. There was no real way to ask him if what the agents had said was true other than to just ask him, but she really didn't want to. 

“I’ll find a place,” he said, clutching on the railings and clenching his jaw. He took a good long while to think, letting the silence seep in before finally speaking. “You brought something, didn’t you?”

Natasha looked down at Barney as she stood next to him. How could he possibly know that she brought the… oh. Shit. Her eyes closed and she rubbed her face, shaking her head. “Barney, the FBI came looking for you.”

He couldn’t help the expression that he wore. He all but rolled his eyes at the mention of the FBI but then just shook his head. “And?”

“They're… going to track me to you, if you don't tell me the truth. Right now. And I swear to god.. if you lie to me, I doubt you'll make it to them finding you.” She looked down, actually making eye contact with him for the first time since she had come to see him. Her eyes pleaded with him to tell the truth, to not make her out to be an idiot who had just blindly believed that he was good, only to be fooled once more. After all, the same thing had happened with Alexei. Maybe duplicitous men were her blind spot, ironically enough. Maybe they just had too much in common. “I know about the weapon.”

“Hm,” was all he said as he listened to her. He knew she had something on her, he had only hoped he was wrong but she had confirmed it. “What do I have to tell you then?”

“The truth. Just tell me… the truth. And I'll decide from there.” He was obviously in no position to run away or fight, so she reluctantly sat down next to him. Natasha wished she had remembered to bring stitches. She was always prepared, but all of this was much more emotional than she ever allowed herself to be, and she felt as if she was all over the place at once. It was awful. And people did this regularly. Stupid feelings. Sighing, she shook her head and turned to look at him expectantly. 

“I don’t know how to get out of this mess,” he said, seated on the floor and sighing. “I was sent to get dirt on Egghead, it was my orders to go rogue on the FBI. But now that I’m on the run, my handlers have deserted me. They say it’s too dangerous to get involved. I don’t know what to do. And that is the truth.”

None of that helped anything to make sense to her. Last he had told her, he worked for the FBI, and suddenly, he didn't work for them anymore? Either that or they suddenly wanted to arrest him for no reason. Natasha shook her head again and rubbed her face slowly. “So you don't work for the FBI. That was another cover.”

He turned to look at her. The tone of her voice took him by surprise. “You don’t believe me,” he said softly, realisation dawning upon him. “I thought you of all people would understand what I’m saying… My FBI handlers told me to go rogue, on undercover. And they ditched me. I’m on my own now…”

He then looked down to her hands and let out a soft, hurt scoff. “I guess I really am.”

“No, I just don't get it, Barney!” She didn't mean to snap at him, but she did, her fingers extending from her palms as she emphasized her words with her hands. It wasn't really any fault of his own. She just didn't trust people. She couldn't. And it didn't help that the last time she was in a serious relationship, her then husband had done the exact same thing and lied about his loyalties, and ended up dying. 

Her jaw clenched and she crossed her arms over her chest once more, taking in a sharp breath. “I hate the fact that I can't tell if you're lying or not. I can always tell, but right now? I can't. And you're hurt, and I can't help you. I don't get what part of you is a cover and which part is actually you, and god, I want to know. It's stupid how much I care about this, because I don't care about anything. That luxury was taken from me years ago, and now you come along, expecting me to just be able to go along with whatever the hell this is, let you go get yourself hurt, and to not be freaked out when you almost die or when the FBI come to my apartment saying that you're dangerous.” 

Natasha frowned and just covered her face with her fingers, shaking her head once more. “I hate this.”

“I am dangerous. The FBI wants to get me because I know too much about them, Egghead wants to get me because I have his stuff. I don’t really know what else to tell you,” he sighed. It was then he keeled over, clutching his bleeding wound. It had drenched his shirt and was staining his jacket as well.

“Yea, well that makes two of us-” Her attention immediately drew to the sound of him falling over. Shit.. Natasha sat up immediately and was by his side, helping him into a sitting position. “Barney.. how long have you been walking around with this?”

“A while,” he groaned, lifting his shirt up slightly only to see that it had gone worse. “Shit… I’m gonna die of infection. It’s been a pleasure knowing you.”

Her jaw clenched, and she went quiet, reaching forward to wrap an arm around his neck. There was no way she was letting him die--not like this. Natasha knew exactly where to take him if he was telling her the truth. They wouldn't hurt him, especially not with her ‘stamp of approval.’ She was pretty sure she could get Clint’s as well. It may take a little arm twisting and bribing, but he'd come around. Carefully, she lifted him up, thankful once for the serum. 

She held him carefully against her as she made her way back to the car, awkwardly carrying the giant man in her deceptively strong arms. “Just hold on, Barney. I'll take care of you.”

He got up to his feet, trying his best to follow and not lean too much onto her lest they both fall down and break a bone or something. “Where we going?”

If she told him, chances were he wouldn't be all that happy, so she lied. “A friend's.” Eventually, they made the way to her car and she reached into her pocket, pulling out the key to unlock the door. 

Barney looked around, glancing to ensure nobody was trailing them. Well, even if there was someone trailing them, it wasn’t like he was in the state to fight. He followed her until they got to the car, trying his best to maintain his balance.

When she opened the door to the back seat, she helped him inside and closed the door behind him. If he had lasted all these days all right, surely he could last another hour. She hoped. Getting in the driver’s seat, Natasha started the car and locked all the doors before doing a U-Turn and heading towards SHIELD. 

He sat there quietly, his eyes studying the street lights that passed them by. After a while, he closed his eyes to rest, putting his life entirely in her hands.

“Just hold on, okay? You're gonna be fine.” Natasha was really talking to herself more than she was him. Pushing the speed limit as much as she could, the assassin sped down the streets. She didn't want to draw any attention to herself, but she needed to get him to the medical bay quickly. 

Soon she pulled up into the check-in point at the front of SHIELD. Thankfully she had brought her ID, so she pulled it out and showed it to the woman up front. It wasn't as if people wouldn't know who she was, but in the world of Skrull and facial rewriting, it was always best to be safe rather than sorry. Natasha parked as close to the front as she could, and then got out, running over to the back seat of the car. “Come on. I’ll help you inside. We’ll take the elevator.”

When they reached SHIELD, Barney’s eyes could barely open. His body was burning up and he was suddenly running high fever. It was probably due to the wound and the fact that he had been running on solely adrenaline for the past few days. He got out with her help and looked away from her.

“Why did you bring me here?” he asked softly, hoping she would at least lie if her intention was to throw him behind bars.

“These are the only people I trust right now, and you can't exactly go to a hospital. Plus, our med bay is better than anyone else's.” Natasha reached in and slowly helped him out, holding him close. She could feel him burning up, and she immediately went quiet. She knew exactly where this was going. She had been in too many missions with dying partners or targets to know what an infection looked like. Septic shock came next. She had to hurry. 

The two slowly made it over to the elevator. She swiped her ID and helped him inside, practically punching the button that led them to the medical floor. As the doors closed, she turned to look at him, still holding him close. The last time they were in an elevator, it was much different. She thought back to him coming to rescue her from work and take her out, Tony catching them making out in the elevator, and Barney promising that one day, he'd have to show her the wonders of elevator sex. “Hey..” she whispered, trying her best to keep him grounded and positive. “Remember when you promised me that if we both made it out of this, we'd go have sex in Tony’s elevator?” Natasha gave her best smile, but she really was worried, and it was getting harder and harder to take around him. 

He was training his breathing. His mindset was one that was fixed. He even believed that he could do anything if he mentally prepared for it, and that includes fighting an infection. But of course, deep down he knew it was impossible.

Hearing her speak, he let out a breath and smiled. He was getting really pale, his eyes sinking deep into their sockets. “Looks like it may never happen,” he said softly.

“Barney, stop.” She cut him off and pulled him close again as she helped him out the elevator. “You're going to make it through this, okay? You have to-” 

As soon as she made it onto the floor, a nurse came over and immediately took him from her. Natasha watched him quietly, letting out a long breath as he was taken away. He was going to be okay. He had to be. 

Once he got in, he tried to answer as many questions asked as possible. He kept himself awake, biting his tongue and watching as the medics fuss over him. He was trained for this. Military. FBI. He’s been through this too many times. But then he lost control of himself.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his mind shutting down and he remembered nothing of what happened afterwards. All he knew was he needed to sleep so badly.

Natasha had gone to find Coulson and loosely explain what had been going on, why she had brought Barney here in the first place. Once she had cleared everything up, she walked back to the open window where she could see into the emergency room. The redhead stood there silently and watched as the minutes passed. 

The infection didn’t seem too bad. It was just that Barney had exhausted his energy and needed time to recover. They fixed and stitched him up, letting him rest in the ward that looked a lot like a jail cell.

Once Barney had been moved to another room, Natasha had to sign a few papers, taking full responsibility of him. It was funny, ironic. This must have been what Clint felt like all those years ago when he had to do the same, taking responsibility for her. Finishing, she found the ward he was staying in and made her way there. Pressing her ID against the receptor, the door clicked open, and she walked inside, letting the door close behind her. “Hey..”

When she came in and greeted him, he opened his eyes and smiled to her. “Hey,” he said, looking around the room. “Where am I?”

“It's one of our hospital rooms. You're safe here. Security is great. Another reason why I brought you here.” Seeing him alive and well, and most of all safe, made her feel ten times better than she did an hour ago. Pulling up a chair, she sat next to him and rested a hand on the bed next to him. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck, with a load of candy. Gobstoppers,” he said, his pupils dilated and his face looking like he was in a daze. “I like gobstoppers… Who are you?”

Natasha laughed softly and smiled to him. The morphine, of course. “I'm Natasha. We're.. friends. I brought you here, remember?”

“I have friends?” he said in a confused daze, then looked back to her. “Oh but you’re hot. Damn.”

“Yea, well,” the corner of her mouth tilted up to a smile and she let out a soft laugh, “we’re a little more than friends, but… neither of us are going to admit that.” Natasha shrugged once, knowing he wasn't going to remember any of this. Her hand hesitantly moved towards where his was and took it in hers without saying anything. 

“Really? Well I’m dumb,” he said and held her hand, closing his eyes for a moment. He felt drowsy but still he felt sane. He was just still so exhausted. “We’re holding hands… I like holding hands.”

The smaller redhead gave in and smiled fully, nodding slightly as she watched him. Her thumb gently stroked his hand. Tender signs of affection weren't her forte, but when she gave them, she meant them. She seldom let that side of her show, to anyone really. It helped that he more than likely wouldn't remember. “I do too, but don't tell anyone.”

He opened his eyes when she spoke and then pressed a finger to his lips. “Shhh… secret,” he said, giggling softly and then closing his eyes again, this time he was more tilted and facing her.

Natasha smiled. It was the first time she had seen him giggle and it was sweet. She wished she had gotten it on recording. That was a good idea. Pulling out her phone, she propped it up against the foot of the bed so it faced him, recording. “Anything else you like to do?”

“Huh?” he said, looking to her and then the phone. “Ooh… Are you recording this? You gonna show it to people?”

“No I just set my phone down over there. There's better reception right there.” She wanted the truly unfiltered Barney right now, and she thought maybe she wouldn't get that if he thought she was recording. 

“Oh… reception is good. Wedding receptions… free food,” he said, then held her hand again. “Fireworks.”

Fireworks. She did her best to hold in a laugh and happily took his hand, acting as if every word he said was the most interesting thing, and it really wasn't that much of a stretch. “You wanna go see fireworks sometime?”

“Fireworks is good. Very loud like gunshots, noisy… You like fireworks?” he asked. There was just something about her that made him feel comfortable.

“Yea, fireworks are nice. You know who really loves fireworks? Captain America. The dork can't get enough of them.” Natasha laughed softly and continued to run her fingers over his knuckles. She was glad Barney was safe. Everything seemed like it would finally be okay. 

“Captain America,” he said and grinned. “Clint loves Captain America… No wait. He loves Ironman, a lot. He wanted to be like them… I wasn’t there…”

He suddenly went into a daze, as if his memory was pulling him back someplace. He was remembering something from so long ago, all this while he refused to think of that memory.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him. Natasha had no clue what was going on between his ears. He might as well have been thinking about flying pigs. His eyes seemed to glaze over a little and she tilted her head. “You okay?”

He raised his free hand and rubbed his eyes, mumbling something under his breath and then looking back to her. “I want to sleep. Can you stay?”

“Of course.” An eyebrow raised and she looked over to see how much room he had on the bed. “Here, scoot over a little.”

He moved a little, wincing at the pain in his side and sighing. “More morphine please,” he called aloud to no one in particular.

That ended it for Natasha. She started laughing and couldn't really stop, unable to hold it in anymore. It was the hardest she had laughed in ages. She struggled to reach forward and add more morphine. The dull look on his face accompanied by the passivity in his voice as he spoke to open air made her sides hurt from laughter. 

“You’re laughing at me,” he pouted, genuinely looking hurt and then just settled down as she came to his side. As he watched her add the morphine, he gave a grin. “Mm… gotta get me some o’ that morphine…”

Natasha slowly got up and gently settled herself next to him. Thankfully SHIELD invested well in their med bay and these beds had plenty of room for the two of them. Once she was lying next to him, she took his hand with both of hers and rested them on her chest, playing with his fingers. 

He smiled and looked to her quietly. “You’re nice. I want to hold your hands often. Just hold you with me too.”

“I wouldn't be opposed to that.” She said it softly, not wanting her phone to pick up on that in the event that she did show this to someone later. Natasha reached over and stopped the recording, setting it on the table on the bedside.

He watched her pick up her phone and smiled dazedly, falling asleep but not before whispering softly. “I think I like you…”

Her hand froze as she turned to look at Barney. If she was honest, she was hoping he was going to say that while drugged up, but she didn't want to get her hopes up. But now that he said it, Natasha felt like a schoolgirl again, not that she ever particularly had this experience, but she had read about it, heard about it. That's how she knew love was for children, but oh god how she missed this. There was a reason why Natasha stayed out of relationships. Everyone she touched got hurt. That's what had happened with Matt and the few people before him too. But for now, she just felt happy. Her head came to rest on his shoulder, and she smiled. “I like you too, Barney. A lot.”

“... Stuck with me now…” he mumbled and fell asleep, quietly snoring as his hand clutched onto hers. Such a sweet sight. Who knew the cold bastard could be so sweet when he was pumped with morphine?

Natasha's heart stopped for a second as she listened to his words. Her eyes closed and she held his hand a little tighter, letting her head rest on his shoulder. “I hope so.” Her voice came out soft and somewhat shaky. She didn't want anyone else to hear, just him, and in reality, she was nervous. She wanted him to remember that she said that, even though the likelihood was small. Her eyes closed as she held him there. She wouldn't fall asleep tonight, but Nat stayed there the whole night, holding him. 

The night was pretty painless for Barney. The morphine helped him sleep well and he was just healing well.

The next morning, Natasha was still there. One arm had turned and draped over his chest as she laid there with her eyes closed. There was no way for her to fall asleep without her handcuffs, and she wasn't sure she would sleep anyways, wanting to be awake if he needed her. The sun soon came up, and the smaller redhead opened her eyes, staring at his chest that was right in front of her face. 

This was just something he wanted to do, someone he wanted to be. It was something he wanted far too much for him to confess, but it truly was.

“Good morning,” he whispered as he feels her eyelash on his skin. He knew she wasn’t asleep really the night before, he knew she needed certain conditions to sleep but it didn’t stop him from saying what he did next. “You snore too loud.”

“I do not.” Natasha laughed and took a deep breath, yawning softly. She had felt him wake up just minutes before, and she smiled, letting her hand rest softly on his chest. Her fingers fell flat against his shirt, and she took in a deep breath. She was happy, and it felt good. 

He tilted his head so he was closer to her and he could smell her scent. She was a beautiful woman he could never try and substitute for… but he was not hers to keep.

“Where am I?” he asked softly.

It was later in the morning than she was usually used to sleeping till, but she was tired, and hungry. They should have some food in the lobby. “SHIELD hospital,” she answered, closing her eyes once more. It suddenly occurred to her to wonder if he even remembered anything from the night before. “You sleep well?”

“Yeah,” he replied quietly. The feeling of the stitches really coming back to him right now. A constant aching in his side that he could not rid of, like this painful life he’s been living. “Is it breakfast time yet?”

“Yea, probably. Just… press the button. They'll come.” Natasha groaned softly and sat up. The last thing she needed was to be caught by Coulson cuddling a possible criminal. Taking a deep breath, she smiled to him and moved to where she had sat earlier, in a chair. 

He reached over to the button and pressed it, asking for assistance. He really was hungry and he needed the energy to heal up. He needed to get out of here.

Bringing a hand to her mouth, the assassin yawned and turned in her chair, cracking her back. It had been a long time since she had done anything even remotely close to cuddling, and she really missed it. Goddamn him. This was why she didn't do relationships. “So, you remember anything from last night?”

“Last night? At the bridge?” he asked, setting the remote down and then groaning when it slips off the bed and onto the ground. It felt like he was fishing as he pulled it up by the wire.

“No, here. After your surgery. You were pretty out of it. Morphine and all.” A big part of her hoped that he remembered. She really wanted this, wanted him, much more than she ever would have considered healthy, but she couldn't help it. 

He waited for a long while, sighing as he finally got the remote and set it next to him. He wondered about the answer that he should give.

“Did I misbehave?” he asked.

Natasha shook her head and laughed, crossing her arms in her seat as she turned and stared at the blank tv screen. He hadn't been misbehaving at all. “You were a perfect gentleman.”

“Well. That’s new. Aren’t I glad I don’t react to morphine the way I react to alcohol,” he said, raising a hand and realising it was stuck with wires so he raised the other hand to rub his eyes.

Thinking back to the last time he got drunk, Natasha quieted. It was a sad night. They both thought he was going to die. They'd been thinking that a lot lately, maybe too much. It was time to stop. Smiling softly, she laughed. “I got it on video.”

“What? No. You traitor,” he said, looking over to her. “Show me. I need a good laugh. Where is it?”

Now it was Natasha's turn to be embarrassed. There were a few too many soft moments of things she either said or did with him between the admittance of having some feelings for him and the cuddling. “It’s… hiding.”

“You’re hiding it? Did I strip? Is that considered not a misbehaviour?” he asked, looking to her and blinking.

“I mean…” Natasha shrugged, letting out a soft laugh. “In private company, I wouldn't say so. But no, you didn't strip, as much as I would have loved to see that.” Smiling, she took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. “It's on my phone.”

“Ah well, okay then,” he nodded and looked to her again. He wanted to take a moment, just smiling and then shaking his head again. “Did you tell them?”

Natasha's head tilted as she looked back at him. “Tell them what?”

“About me,” he said, sighing softly and looking away again. He knew Natasha planned to get SHIELD to somehow save him, but he didn’t know what he wanted really.

She shook her head and yawned softly, stretching. It wasn't as if she wanted to. She really did, but the last time she had suggested he go to SHIELD didn't end well. “No. I told you I'd help you figure this one out. And you didn't like SHIELD, so..” 

“Alright,” he said softly and pondered it over. “It’s not that I don’t want their help. I just didn’t want to get involved in yet another organisation, pledge my loyalty only to end up the same way again.”

“No, I understand.” Natasha nodded quietly and thought of all the times she had been blacklisted by her own handlers. It certainly wasn't fun. She was lucky to have SHIELD. Opening her mouth to say something to him, the doors of the hospital room opened and a nurse came in with food. The assassin went quiet and just sunk back into her chair. 

The attending agent set a table and made him sit up to eat. He nodded a thanks to the lady and looked at the food. “Jesus… It looks like jail food,” he said softly.

“We’ll pick up some Taco Bell as soon as you get out-” Her head immediately tilted and she smiled just slightly, the corner of her mouth tilting up. “And how would you know what jail food looks like?”

“Been,” he said easily and unpacked the food, taking the spoon to eat it. He ate and then shook his head, his expression almost confirming it to be just like what he had said.

Natasha couldn't help laughing at his casual honesty. Aside from the fact that he had been hiding what exactly his work was, he was mostly honest. He just didn't care what people thought, so he didn't try to filter things, and she loved that. “How long?”

“Just about five months? Awol, and then mostly just to dirty my records,” he told her. He took a drink and then looked to her. “I’m guessing you have never been. You’re too good to be caught.”

“No, I've been, once or twice. It doesn't matter how good you are if someone sets you up.” Natasha gave a less than savory look to nothing in particular, thinking back to one specific blonde from her past that she hated. Her head shook and she shrugged. “Russian prisons are horrible.”

“I wouldn’t want to go into one again, I’ve done enough time. I mean… Well, come to think of it, I still am,” he sighed and ate some more. He finished the food within minutes, having been starving for days. “Is your handler just going to let me walk out of here?”

Nat shook her head once, running a finger across her eyebrow as she thought. “I prefer to think of him as my boss, and yes. I explained as much of it to him as I could. He offered to help as much as you needed it.”

“Ah,” he said and looked to her again. She was just different, even the way she spoke to him was different. It gave him an inkling of what had transpired between them just the night before, but he wouldn’t dare make assumptions too early. “Wanna know what I’d kill for right now? Some really good tacos. Do you have it here?”

“No,” she shook her head. “But as soon as you’re vertical, we can get some and finish this shit up. I have what you needed. You can finish this. Finish him.” Natasha sounded tired, but she was hopeful. It was only poetic that the person she’d finally let her guard down for, would be in such a mess that’d she’d have to help him figure out. She just wanted things to be normal for once. 

“Okay. Let’s get vertical,” he says. Barney had no problem with removing the wires and the tubes, he’s done this so many times. Come to think of it, he’s never really stayed long enough to recover completely.

Natasha’s eyes widened for a second, and she stood next to him. “Barney, no, you have to heal. That wasn’t supposed to be a challenge.”

“The tubes aren’t gonna help me to heal, alright? I don’t need to be here to heal. I can be at my own home, in my own bed and eating pizza. And still healing,” he told her. It was evident, he just did not want to be here. He hated being anywhere near hospitals and he hated Shield a lot worse.

“Fine, but… don’t push yourself, okay?” Standing next to him, she gave him a bit of a ‘you can’t be serious’ face. “You think it’s safe to go home and be in your own bed now, huh?” Part of her had forgotten that he probably even had his own place to live. Nat didn’t exactly want him to move out of her apartment, even though he had never officially moved in, just hid there for about a month. “Regardless, we have to get this thumbdrive to the authorities. Then you’re in the clear.”

He sighs and plucked out the tubes, wincing at the slicing feeling it gave him. He just hopes he doesn’t bleed out through it. “It’s more complicated than that. I have to tell you. I can’t explain here.”

Natasha stuffed her hand into her pocket, letting her fingers curl around the small piece of plastic that held both of their futures hopefully in tact. It would more so affect Barney, but at this point, what affected him affected her. She cared about him, and she wouldn’t let him get taken away that easily. “Then where to?”

He gave it a thought and then shrugged. “Anywhere untapped,” he tells her, glancing over to the thing she was holding onto.

Natasha thought for a moment. The first place that came to mind made sense, but Barney wasn’t going to like it. “I know a place…” Her voice trailed off as she put the drive back into her pocket. 

“Lead the way,” he says, gesturing to the door with a little bit of a facial shrug as he got to his feet. “But first… pizza.”

“We can get delivery.” Taking his arm, she carefully lead him out of the hospital wing and to the elevator. She had parked her car in the garage. “I’ll have it there by the time we get there.”


	13. Chapter 13

Clint’s apartment. This could end horribly for her, but her apartment and the tower were no-gos. She had a pizza delivery app in her phone that had Clint’s address as its default any time she ordered. Putting in the order, she set the phone down in the car and helped Barney inside, choosing to not reveal their destination. 

He simply hoped she knew what she was doing, he was putting his trust on her. Closing his eyes once he was strapped into the seat, he dozed off almost immediately. So much for healing without the tubes.

It was probably for the best that he fell asleep. Then he couldn’t tell where they were headed and try to stop her. There was no easy way for her to get him up the stairs though. So Natasha walked around the car to Barney and nudged him softly. 

He woke up bleary and grumpy, even more so when he realises where they were. “No,” he said. “Why did you take me here?”

She gave a small groan of guilt. “You wanted a safe spot. This was the safest I could think of. If you’re lucky, he’s asleep.”

“He’s in there? You want me to go up there while he’s still in there? No,” he said, shaking his head. “No. Just drop me off somewhere. I’ll walk home. Damn it, Tasha. I’m not getting him involved!”

“Barney..” she sighed softly and knelt on the ground next to him inside the car door. “I really just want to help you, but my options are limited here. We have your freedom here. But if there’s more to this, something you need to tell me in an ‘untapped place,’ then I need to figure out how I’m going to help you.”

He sighs and looked forward. The longer they stay out here, the more danger they would all be in. “Move,” he said curtly, getting out of the car.

She had fucked this one up. Nat stood and got out of his way. Clint had no clue she was even there, or that she was bringing Barney along. This was going to be interesting. Hopefully the pizza had gotten there before him and Clint was slowly sinking into an appeasement before they got up there. 

Barney was still dressed like a patient, but he sure was losing patience. He had a frown on, just walking up looking like he was not hurt at all apart from the bashed up face. He hated being here. He hated having to face his brother like this. And he surely didn’t shy from making it known to Natasha in the way he acted or through his silence.

“Barney, I’m sorry. Don’t act like this, okay? You know our options are limited.” She tried to reach for his hand and stop him, to make him look at her. Natasha hated it when he was mad at her, but she kinda deserved this one. 

He had drawn his hand away before she could take it, rubbing his face in exasperation even as she spoke. He didn’t know what he had to say.

“I don’t know, Natasha. I thought maybe in this time of turmoil I could at least rely on one thing,” he said, walking up to Clint’s apartment level, cursing to himself. “Does he know that we’re coming?”

“Hey.” She said it a bit sharper than she meant. Natasha understood him being angry, but him telling her that she wasn’t there for him when he needed her was crossing a line. Her jaw clenched and she walked in front of him, blocking him from moving any further.

“Barney, I just want you safe. And clearly there are things you’re not telling me, so my options are limited. The list of people I trust is a short one, including maybe five people, and your brother just happens to be one of them. Now you can pout and be all angsty about that all you want, but do not tell me that I am not trying to do what is best for you.”

She was irate. In her mind, Barney should have realized how difficult this really was for her. She never let herself fall for anyone, and the one time she did, he had all this shit going on. It had been a tough call for her to just put her career on the line to help him with his more than likely illegal escapades, and for him to say that she wasn’t there for him? She was furious. 

The anger came first, as always, but then came the hurt. Did he really think so little of her? Natasha closed her eyes for a second, trying not to let the feeling overtake her as she said quietly, “I’m trying my best.”

Who was he so angry at? Who was he truly disappointed about? It sure as hell was not Natasha. Oh. That’s right. Himself.

“One person, Tasha. I vowed to myself whatever happens, whatever shit I get myself into. There is one person I just cannot involve,” he tells her.

Closing his eyes as well, it was just to calm himself down. He was feeling giddy and of course, that means a blackout.

Before he knew it, he was on the floor. He was seated with the wall on his back, his hands on his sides and his legs outstretched on the floor. He was lightheaded and it felt like he was swimming in deep waters.

“Shit.” None of this was going well. Natasha quickly leaned down next to him and took his hand, gently rubbing his wrists. “Barney? Barney.”

He could hear her. The voice echoing around in his head as he tries to focus his sight. This is bad.

“I don’t think I can walk,” he told her honestly. He needed help. He didn’t care if she dragged him but he really just needed to leave. “Get me out of the common corridors.”

“Just hold on. Okay?” Something shifted inside of Natasha, out of defensive gear and straight into a protective one. Taking his arm, she carefully lifted him off the ground, and around her shoulder, and stopped. She could bring him to Clint’s or she could get him to the car. If this was the kind of response he was giving to the idea of going to Clint’s, actually going was probably a bad idea. Stairs it was then. Natasha carefully carried him to the stairs back down towards her car. 

He could tell they were leaving. He was in pain and he really could care less. Groaning, he felt more dizzy. “I’m fain-...” he tried to warn her and then he simply blacks out, probably with the idea that he had already told her.

-x-

Grunting when he came to, he took a glance around. It was familiar and yet so foreign. Ah. He knew where he was, he remembers now. “Oh my head,” he curses.

“You’re up. Thank god.” Nat hadn’t left his side. As soon as he came to, she stood next to him and looked over him, checking to see if he had concussed in his fall. “Are you all right?”

“Mm,” he nods slightly and pressed a hand to his head. “You brought us home.”

Home. That word seemed to come easy for him these days. If he was asked just a few months ago, he would not have been able to pronounce the word with a straight face. But today, this is home. “I need water.”

There was already a glass of water sitting on the table next to him. She was going to be ready for when he did come to. It wasn’t the first time someone she knew passed out, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. She had developed a routine, whether she knew it or not, so she always had water ready.

Taking the glass in hand, she pressed her hand to the top of his head, smoothing his hair back before she held up his head and gave him some of the water. 

Managing to get up just enough to drink, he drew away when he was done. Laying back and looking up at her, he reached up to hold her hand. Morphine or not he still liked holding her hand.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers loud enough for her to hear but not enough to bust a stitch.

“Why.. are you apologizing?” She felt his fingers curl around hers, and she relaxed a little, hoping that meant he wasn’t mad at her anymore, or with her luck, he’d have forgotten he was mad, then find out again later only to get more angry. “You can’t help it if you pass out.”

“No. Not that,” he said softly. “I was a dick. I’m sorry.”

He held her hand and pulled her in, wanting her to be close to him. At least, sitting next to him so he could feel her.

“I shouldn’t have said such things earlier. I was just so angry… and confused,” he confesses quietly. “I didn’t want Clint involved. I don’t want him to know what is happening with me. If you know him, you know he’s going to blame himself and get into trouble as well. I can’t do that. He thinks I’m a turd, I’m fine by that. I’d rather he live on safely thinking I did him wrong than know it all and just… not move on.”

So he did remember. 

Natasha went quiet for a second and just crawled into bed next to him, wrapping her arms carefully around the much larger man. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have.. tried to take you to Clint’s. I know how important this is to you. I was just trying to do what was easiest for me I guess.” 

Her head rested on his shoulder as she spoke. “You’re just so important to me, Barney. I want what’s best for you. I want to help you. And that’s a new thing for me. You can ask Steve. He loves to remind me how much I only look out for my own interests. So all of this is just.. new.”

He sighs and nods, knowing fully well what she meant. “I know,” he said. “Can I borrow your phone? I need to… check the weather.”

“I’m not going to tell you you can’t borrow my phone, Barney. You don’t have to lie about whatever it is you want to check.” Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she handed it to him. “Knock yourself out. But not really.”

He took her phone, rubbing his eyes with another hand and then just typing up a storm. Handing it back over to her, it was a message for her.

‘Check for bugs.’

“It just feels a little cloudy outside,” he says. “Either that. Or I need a pair of glasses.”

“I can go look out the window,” she shrugged. Having seen the message, Natasha stood and walked over to the only window in her room. As she looked outside, the assassin pretended to scan for clouds, but really she was looking for anyone who may be watching or listening. No one seemed to be around. “Sky looks pretty normal to me.”

Once she was satisfied that they were not being watched, Nat closed the blinds and began to rummage around the room. 

“I’m thirsty, can I get a drink please?” he asks, showing her a message that he had typed up.

‘Lightbulbs.’ 

“Wow. You finished the water all ready?” Natasha let out a short laugh as she walked over to a lamp. “Yea, just give me a second.” Once the lamp shade was off, she ran her fingers over the seams to make sure nothing had been altered before unscrewing the lightbulb. She repeated this process until all the lamps in her room had been checked. 

Finally she stood on top of the bed and began to check the ceiling fan. The redhead stopped and let out a short breath. Reaching between one of the limbs of the fan and the lightbulb, she pulled out a small circular disc and held it up in front of Barney. 

Barney sighed at that. He knew it. How could her house not be bugged. Shaking his head, he started typing up in her phone again. “I hate this,” he said softly, frowning and tossing the phone to the bed. “I’m so tired.”

“I know you are, lyubov moya, but this will pass.” Sitting back down on the bed next to Barney, she set the small device on the nightstand and picked up her phone to see what he’d sent her. 

‘If there is one, there will always be more.’

And so that was why he was tired. They wanted to listen in, wanted to hear what he was going to tell her and he did not have the patience to type it all up. He was just not that kind of a person. “Can you hold me while I rest?” he requests quietly.

Natasha had gotten back up to look for more of the bugs, but hearing Barney’s question, she stopped. She could tell he was exhausted. Most of this was normal for Natasha. Constant paranoia, shitty undercover missions, being alone in her problems. She didn’t know Barney well enough to know how new this was to him, but she could tell it was taking its toll on him. The gunshot certainly didn’t help. 

She immediately abandoned searching for more listening devices and simply slipped back into bed with Barney. Her arms wrapped around his waist, and she pulled him close, nuzzling his neck. 

He didn’t care about the pain anymore. It was just the mental torture that he needs to get over. He snuggled her close, pressing his lips to her ear and whispering softly. “If the FBI finds me, I’ll be sentenced to death,” he tells her.

Natasha stilled. She couldn’t have heard him right. The redhead refused to react to the statement because it couldn’t be true. Her eyes stung, as she slowly pulled away to look up at him. She shook her head. That was all he was getting, a solid ‘no.’ No that he was not dying, and no that he was not getting taken away. 

Her denial made him more sad than he has ever felt before. He used to only be sad that he would be leaving his brother behind, but Clint would have a good life with him gone. Now, Natasha was making him regret all of his bad choices.

“I’ve done a lot of wrong things. I’ve already been made to understand. I’m entirely on my own,” he told her. “If I do end up there… I’m sorry.”

Her jaw clenched and she just continued to shake her head. She couldn’t listen to him talking about dying again. The last time it happened, they’d gotten him out of it. They’d just have to do it again. Reaching up, her hand covered his mouth to silence him, and she rested her forehead on top of her hand, letting out a long, shaking breath. 

He really needed her to know the extent of the situation. The FBI and his handlers had abandoned him entirely. One of the two only people who know about him is dead, and the other has refused to acknowledge him. If he gets caught, it is the end.

“This needs to be delivered,” he tells her, picking up the thumb drive and showing it to her. “But only into the right hands. I can’t really jump out the window right now if they come, but you can.”

“I’m not leaving you alone to die.” She shook her head. “I’m not letting you-..” Her voice cut off and she just closed her eyes, holding him tightly. If this was the end for him, it was going to be the end for her as well. Her arms pulled him closer. Natasha could feel her eyes burn the longer she held him there. 

“Please? It’s the only way to help me now. There is no other way,” he said softly. “I didn’t want to tell Clint because of this… I don’t want him to know either.”

Natasha held the thumb drive in her hand tightly. This could mean Barney’s freedom, but if they came when she was gone, it could mean his death. It was a gamble she did not want to take, but it was one he seemed to need her to. “I.. I won’t be long.”

Finally he gave her a smile. It was not one of relief, it was even lacking of the little mischief he usually has in his eyes. “Fearsome Black Widow takes orders from a dead man walking. Sounds like a good headline for the day.”

“If you don’t stop talking like that, I won’t go.” Natasha pushed herself off of the bed as she let go of him. Reaching into her pocket, she held the thumbdrive. “I’ll be back.” The assassin handed to him her gun. “You shoot anyone that comes inside. You hear me?”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, nodding and smiling to her. “Can you kiss me? Before you go?”

He didn’t want her to leave, but he had no other choice.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” The redhead leaned down, pressing her lips gently to Barney’s. Every part of her was scared that she’d never see him again. If she came home to a dead Barney, she’d never forgive herself. He’d be on her ledger, and she’d have to tell Clint. And she’d have lost the man she learned to love. She continued to kiss him before slowly pulling away. “Barney..”

Smiling on her lips, he nodded and watched her. “I want some tacos. Could you get me some on your way back?”

Natasha nodded quietly, barely inches away from his face. “I’ll get you some tacos.” She pressed her lips once more to his forehead, closing her eyes. When she pulled back, Nat looked down at him, hardly able to make herself leave. ”Barney, I..” Her head shook, and instead she stood. She didn’t need to say that. She’d be back, and he’d be okay. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes, I will see you soon,” he agrees with a smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Get the information there.”

“I will. And I’ll bring tacos.” Natasha stood in the doorway of her room for a second before she turned to leave. He said it needed to go into the ‘right hands.’ Could he have been more vague? 

The FBI was clearly a no-go, and as Natasha sat there in her car thinking, her phone rang. It was Clint. 

“Did you order me a pizza?” His voice was muddled with confusion and excitement. Natasha had almost forgotten about the pizza being delivered to his house. 

“Yea,” she answered. “I was gonna stop by, but I wasn’t able to. Enjoy it. Next one’s on you.” Her voice had a touch of a smile to it, trying to just convince him—and herself too—that everything was going to be okay.


	14. Chapter 14

When they finished, she hung up and drove down to the Avengers Tower. There were few people she trusted, and this didn’t need to go to SHIELD. Tony was not only trustworthy, but also capable of making sure that everyone knew exactly what had happened in the last month and what had been going on before then. Tony basically owned the internet for his own. 

Nat walked out onto his penthouse floor and called for him. “You rang?” Tony’s voice appeared behind her, and she jumped. It wasn’t really Tony. Her hand reached out to feel what was in front of her, a holographic image of the genius. “Oh this? It’s just something I’m playing around with. Figured, who’d be a better Artificial Intelligence helper to myself.. than myself?”

The AI Tony smiled and walked right through Natasha. Her head shook as she watched him reappear on the other side of her body. “Where are you- the real you?” 

“I believe I’m taking a nap right now.” 

A loud crash could be heard from the other side of the room. Nat’s brows furrowed and she went quiet, trying to figure out what the noise had been. A disheveled, sleep deprived Tony walked up from the workshop, brandishing a little metallic box with a button between his fingers. “I found it.”

“I was wrong,” the AI Tony mused, eyeing the box with disdain. His lip came out in a small pout, and he crossed his arms. 

“Oh no, don’t you give me that,” Tony scoffed, pointing the box at him. As he pressed the button, the blue image disappeared. “Finally.” Stark let out a long, relieved breath before stuffing the remote into his pocket. “Did you see how annoying he was? I gotta change something in there. I must have programmed something wrong. Dude wouldn’t shut up.”

Natasha couldn’t believe he didn’t see it. Tony Stark was being annoyed by himself, and he thought it was programming. “Sure..” Any other time, she would have teased him for finally realizing exactly how big his own personality was, but today, she meant business. 

“I need you to take this.” Her hand opened to him to show the drive. “It has information about a certain war criminal. This proves his guilt, and unless this goes out, good people will be punished because of him. I need you to leak this. Let everyone know what kind of person he is, okay?” 

Natasha was tired. Her voice wasn’t as commanding as it usually was, but the tone of immediacy was still there. “I need this as soon as possible. I’m trusting you here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tony took the thumb drive from her and pocketed it as well. “I’ll work on it right now. Wanna help?”

“I would,” she started, taking a step back towards the elevator, “but I have something to get back to.” And with that, Nat was back in her car, picking up tacos for Barney. Her mind wandered back to their second date, sitting in her apartment. They drank cheap wine and ate tacos, but it was one of the best times she could ever remember. 

Once she picked up the tacos, Natasha walked back up to the apartment, shifting them all into one arm as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Standing in her apartment, she locked all the locks once more and headed back to the bedroom, knocking once on the door. “Barney, you good?”

It was always painful to watch someone leave, and it was more painful to watch them wait as you leave them behind. Seated atop the roof of the next block, Barney had a hand clutched to his aching side as he studies the redhead that had just returned to her home.

She must be looking for him, he thought. It’s better if she is distanced from him, at least for now. Hopefully, she’ll find the note he had left to be helpful and maybe it could bring some sort of partial closure for her.

Hearing no response from him, she pushed the door open, fearing for what she thought was the worst: him being killed or taken. Upon seeing no one in the room, she panicked. Had he been taken? The doors were locked. She ran to the closet and yanked the door open to see if he was hiding inside. 

Nothing. 

“Shit..” Pulling out her phone, she tried to call him. Maybe he had gone out to go get a pizza or something. Natasha tried to reassure herself that he was okay and not dead. As the phone rang, she paced the room until her eyes settled on a piece of paper on the bed. With her phone still to her ear, his number ringing, she walked over to the bed and sat, picking up the piece of paper. 

Hey Gorgeous,  
Congratulations for being successfully selected for the lucky draw. Unfortunately, the services end today. Thank you for everything, I hope you had a good time. I know I did. And I’m sorry for everything I did. I’ll see you on the flipside.  
➶C.B.➶  
P.s. the hotter one

She knew he wouldn’t answer the phone. Closing her eyes, Natasha hung up and set the phone on the bed. The note sat unmoving in her hand. Part of her wanted to crumble it up and burn it. How could he just leave like that? Her jaw clenched, and she set the note down as she ran both hands through her hair. There was no way for her to protect him now. He was gone. 

Clint was right. Leaving was Barney’s forte. He couldn’t be trusted, couldn’t be counted on. Why had she let herself be so stupid? She didn’t know when she had started crying, but she did. A tear streaked down the side of her face, and she let out one short sob, covering her mouth with her hand. 

But that was all she allowed herself. 

Her eyes scanned the note once more before she picked it up and set it in the drawer of her vanity. Standing alone in her room, her apartment had never felt more empty. She crossed her arms over her chest as she tried to push the feelings away. Her head just shook and she leaned back against the wall, sliding to the ground. There was nothing she could do now. It was beyond her control.


	15. Chapter 15

Things could not get more horrible, In fact, it all became better once Barney had left the place. It wasn’t supposed to be easy for Natasha, it wasn’t easy for either of them. Time flies, seasons changed. (But people don’t?) Snow had started to blanket the city streets and it was soon festive season for the Avengers.

The Christmas tree that was set up in the middle of the common floors had been decorated and everyone was running around like headless chickens. Last minute preparations were being done and gifts had been stuck under the tree. They all took turns to put the gifts there while everyone else is asleep, taking their secret Santa role pretty seriously. For a tower full of adults, none of them seemed to be wise enough to ditch their childish games.

Tonight was the night to sing carols, watch cheesy Hallmark movies and to drink eggnog. They were all ready to grab their gifts accordingly. Some gifts were wrapped far too nicely, while others were shoddily done. Everybody knew whose those were.

“Alright, alright. Gather around. It’s almost time!” someone chirps loudly, gathering everyone around the center of the living room. The Earth’s Mightiest Heroes were seated around on the carpet, the room warmed up by fake fire in a small place and the tree stood tall by the side of the living room.

Nat had been sitting with Clint most of the time. Eventually, she had to tell him about what had happened with Barney, not specifics, just that he had left. Clint wasn’t really surprised. He was angry more than anything, but not at her. She had spent a lot more time with him after Barney left. It just felt too bad to stay in her apartment by herself, plus, Clint was her best friend. 

Natasha stood and walked over to where the presents were being exchanged. She picked up her little red and black wrapped present that was for Bruce. Sitting in the circle, she waited to see who was going to start. 

“Okay, let’s pick,” Tony says, walking around with a makeshift hat made from folded newspapers that could also be a paper boat really. All of them picked out a number, a sort of order which allows them to go get their gifts. Some of them were obviously made for some people, with their colour schemed wrappers like Natasha’s.

Each of them went to get their gifts and unwrapped them excitedly. They were all excited by the things they got.

Natasha took her present that had been from Tony. It was a beautiful necklace. She thanked him and he helped her put it on. There was one box left under the tree though, and she looked at it for a second. “Tony, what’s that?”

Everyone’s attention had suddenly shifted and they were all looking at the nicely wrapped gift under the tree. It seemed to have been left behind. “Uhhh… Does everyone have their gifts? Is that supposed to be for Fury because that’s the wrong tree,” Tony jokes despite the spike in everybody’s nervousness. “Shall I get it out of here?”

A bomb couldn’t have gotten into the Tower. Tony had plenty of sensors to make sure that exact thing didn’t happen. Her eyes narrowed, and she counted everyone in the room. They had each received their gifts. “Is there a note or anything on it?”

Being the bravest among them, and the closest, Steve looked over and saw the card saying “To Natasha” and so he picks it up cautiously.

“It’s for you,” he says.

Nat’s face fell slightly. If there was a bomb inside, and it was for her, she couldn’t handle the thought of her being the reason the rest of them died, but as soon as the box was in her hand, she noticed the note. More specifically, she recognized the handwriting. 

To Natasha. 

She smiled softly as she read the letters, almost forgetting the others were in the room. Her eyes began to sting as she let out a short laugh of disbelief. Sniffing once, she gently unwrapped the paper and opened the box to see what was inside. 

The note was simple enough and he knew it would fall to just about anybody’s hands and so he hid another note underneath the wrapper, written on the box of the gift itself. There was a sticker on it which said ‘fragile’.

To Natasha,  
Merry Christmas  
C.B.

Inside the box, wrapped in a gazillion bubble wraps and sponges was a sparkling snow globe. In the middle of it was a beautiful ballerina, specifically a redhead with a beautiful white tutu in a pose that Barney could not verbalize even if his life was at stake.

The ‘fragile’ sticker certainly wasn’t helping the bomb case, but she knew his handwriting anywhere, and she trusted him. As she set the box in her lap, she pulled out the carefully wrapped snowglobe and took off the bubble wrap. Nat turned the little snowglobe over in her hands until she saw the ballerina inside. She could feel her throat tighten as the tears threatened to fall from her eyes, but she kept them there, her eyes instead catching the note on the inside. 

She read it before putting the snowglobe back inside. Nat was very aware that every eye in the room was probably on her. Rubbing her eyes once, she laughed and said to them, “I won a survey.”

“Really? Didn’t know you take part in surveys,” Tony said, then shrugged and started to break out his alcohol stash for the intimate Avengers’ Christmas party.

While everyone was getting busy with their own gifts, Clint was holding onto his own but his eyes were not on it. Instead, he was watching Natasha for the longest time. He was her best friend, she could lie to anyone but not him. He just knew.

While most people were busy with their drinking, Natasha stood and walked out onto the balcony. There was hardly a chance he even still had the same number, unless he just trusted her not to follow him. But still, she pulled out her phone and sent Barney a quick text, the first time she’d tried to reach out to him since he left. 

Merry Christmas. 

It was all she said. It was all she needed to say. The less she had on her phone about him, the better. 

To most, those two words were simple greetings of the festive season. Yet to the two of them, those two words meant more than just words. They could close their eyes and hear the words being said in their ears, warming the icy cold weather despite blankets of snow over the ground they walked upon. Just like that, his Christmas this year is brighter and more meaningful than most others in his adult life.


End file.
